Write an opening passage to a story that is based on a world where cloning is rampant, in the style of dark humor.


Answer: I love the mornings. Everything feels original for a few moments. Until it hits me. My dog, licking my hand to rouse me from bed, is a copy. My moist hand was copied. My wife sleeping quietly beside me, perfect in every way, was cloned 4 days ago. It's not just living things either, my car, my coffee mug, my barbecue, my hockey sticks, all copies. My pajamas were copied after I burned my entire house down 5 days ago because I couldn't figure out how to stop a leak in my bathroom sink (I walked outside with the dog, but got new copies of everything the next day). It's a life full of convenience. I hate it.