clones collective

My clone is a mnemonic device. There are those, still in this day in age, where as they approach death, they embrace religion.  They don’t attend a day of church for decades.  They lie and philander on Facebook and laugh at the misfortune of others on YouTube.  Then suddenly as bones creak and lenses cloud [...]

Thank you all for coming tonight.  I know fighting for the Homo Revolution has been hard on you and your families.  All that you have given and all that you have lost has brought us our salvation at last.  I stand before you to declare the end of their supremacy is here! Thousands of winters [...]

“My clone is my replacement,” Sylvia said, voice shaky, tears welling in her eyes.  “I don’t know if that was always the plan… or if it just happened.” I handed her the box of tissues that I keep in my office specifically for such occasions.  She dabbed her eyes and looked out the window for some [...]

I got a clone so I wouldn’t be lonely.  Ever since I was a teenager, I had realized I didn’t want kids.  I had to defend my claim all through adult-hood.  I finally chalked it up as, “I just don’t see myself in that role”. I myself had a very happy childhood, and I look [...]

My clone sat on the floor staring at me. “What are you talking about?” she asked. I just wanted to know what she was thinking about the possibility of having lived before and all I got was a vacuous stare. “Well,” I said, “surely you’ve had dreams about being someone else in another place or [...]

My clone is a straight-A student. He’s in college, Dean’s List and everything. He’s eyeing medical schools. He wants to be a doctor. At least, that’s what I tell people. Sometimes, though, my clone is a ball player. Football, basketball, it doesn’t matter. Either way, he’s being eyed by college scouts. No matter what, you [...]

“Damn it!” he muttered to himself.  The final results of his 25 year long experiment were finally in, and they were not as good as he had hoped.  The subject of his experiment, a clone of himself, had graduated near the top of his class and been hired on at one of the top research [...]

My clone was really getting on my nerves.  That’s why I’m sitting here in a flophouse in a bad barrio of Tijuana, with the Feds hunting me down.  I mean, they shouldn’t do that–you know, just hunt down and shoot a real person like me.  I should get a trial, only clones get hunted down [...]

Alex looked at Emo, and Emo looked at me, tilting his head slightly so that he was ‘looking down’ at me even though he was only 15 and shorter than I, “Okay Dad. See, it’s like this. The older we get, the more my sister and I look like you and mom—I mean Joan. Ben Bobb Junior’s been joking us every chance he gets since the PTA meeting last month.”

“That kid Ben’s a juvenile delinquent,” I snapped. “Who cares what he thinks? He’ll be behind bars the moment he’s 18!”

“Bruce,” Alex put up her free hand to pause me. She didn’t call me ‘Dad.’ “Please try and stay on the subject.”

I looked at Joan and thought her confused expression probably matched my own.

“The kids at the bus stop joke us about it all the time. People give us funny looks when we go out in public as a family,” Emo explained. “Alex and I can see them whispering to one another, gossiping.”

The more Emo spoke, the more I thought this was sounding rehearsed, very rehearsed. “They act as if they know something scandalous about our family, some kind of inside joke. It’s like when dad jokes someone for wearing a bad toupee.”

“Or Mom knocks someone’s breast implants,” Alex added.

Emo nodded, “It’s like everyone in the world thinks you’re trying to pull a fast one. It’s like you think you’re really clever, but everyone sees the obvious.”

Emo paused dramatically.

“We’re clones of you two, aren’t we?” his tone did not make it a question.