I was surprised. I had not seen this one coming. ‘Oh?’ I said, waiting for her to explain. ‘We’re not getting along. Well, that’s not exactl... true. I mean, we get along fine, as long as we stick to the things he wants to talk about. We don’t fight, or anything. He makes sure of that. ‘But it’s just . . .well, I think our love has died. We live in the same house, we talk about his books, and my work but it’s just all empty. There’s no spark, no passion. We haven’t made love in three months . .. Then I saw he’d called half a dozen times.I knew the fact he would call me at all would portend bad tidings. The fact he’d called me six times in 20 minutes had me expecting the worst.My telephone had finally stopped its incessant ringing so I kept my cell in my hand while I made my way across the room to the check the call log on the land line.The missed calls, 10 it appeared, had come from two places: my job and from my middle sister, another sibling I rarely spoke to. My sister’s name popped. "Great, isn't he?' Imp-Mommy said as her distraught companion shook with the climax. "Who wants to think, when we've got a hunky boy with his tongue in your twat, you biddy?"But I'm so turned on. I... I want... "To fuck him?" God, yes! But I can't. He's my son... It's... so..." Ego-Mommy groped for a word."If you are waiting for HER to tell you that it's 'wrong, ' don't hold your breath," Imp-Mommy smirked."Her?" Yeah. Our Conscience. Over there." Ego-Mommy looked over to see another replica of. He was my role model in life, everything that I ever wanted to be. In fact, I even wanted him when I was about thirteen or fourteen, but that was a foolish child’s admiration for such an amazing man. He had been in the military after college, but quickly developed a reputation for partying too hard and disobeying all the ‘unspoken rules’. Wild trips to strip clubs, small but inventive pranks on commanding officers, stealing the army humvees at night for a little rowdiness – nothing was out of.