[“The clone will never be the same as the original, because it will have had another before it.” – Jean Baudrillard]
It’s like being his little brother, but better in some ways: Joey can’t make fun of my feet that splay out, my slight stoop, because he’s like that too. And he can’t hint that he’s smarter than I am, because he knows damn well that I’m just as smart (or just as dumb!) as he is. OK, he got here a year before I did, and he’s taller. But that will pretty much even out in a few years.
I love Joey but I don’t really like him, kind of how I feel about myself. But I do hang around and try to keep him from doing stupid things, like climbing around the roof on a dare.
After all, if he did that, he might fall off and die. And then next year I’d die, too, doing the same damn thing.
Memorable Fancies 
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