cut-and-paste

I spent most of those evenings with Scout, often in a deliberate attempt to numb the impulse to ask such questions. Once, when I seduced him into the bedroom and put both of my hands in his dark hair, I imagine his head coming off his body in my hands. His body and mind could just as easily be a cut-and-paste job as mine. This made me afraid of both, afraid of myself, afraid of my affection for him. I invited him into my bed to chase away the nightmare. He ended up entering the nightmare instead.

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