The horrific unforeseen consequences of a degree in English Literature
“I’m afraid the diagnosis is unambiguous,” the doctor sighed. He couldn’t look the young man in the eye. No one ever wanted to hear this about their own father, but it was inescapable.
“You mean…?” Sam choked, unable to complete his sentence.
The doctor nodded. “Yes. Advanced Hemingway Parody Syndrome. Completely incurable. And, sadly, not fatal. Which means your father will be writing Hemingway parodies for a long, long time.”