“What the FUCK is this?” Susan screamed. “What the hell were you thinking?”

She’d found her in the cupboard, under the stairs. Dressed in the black basque I’d bought her a few days ago.

“I thought you loved me! I never even considered that you could cheat on me – but this is worse! I’m disgusted, it makes me feel dirty and used – how could you?” She backed away into the corner, sobbing.
“I mean, this is sick! You bastard!” She was crying now, wailing. “She looks like me – you had them make a machine that looks just like me, to have your sick fantasies without me!”

Suddenly, she picked up the lamp from the hall table. With a furious rage she lashed out, hitting her with a sickening thud, her head rolling off down the hall.

“Go to hell, you bastard! You and your sick doll!” she shouted triumphantly, storming out the door.

I picked up her head, nestling it close to my chest.

“It’s alright,” I said, quietly. “She’s gone now.”
“You’re not alike at all, really. Its always been you I loved, not her.”