If you’ve read the fourth book in my current series of novels, it will not shock you to discover that I am a sexual being. I am married, and have been for many years. I am father to four children. So here again, you can see: I enjoy, or at the very least have had, sex. But I am also 46 years old, and the fruits of my literary success, though hard-won, have introduced many pressures and stresses into my private life. Sex doesn’t always thrive under such conditions. With this in mind, I reluctantly visited my doctor, who recommended I try Refractin, a suggestion that filled my heart with sorrow. He wrote a prescription that appeared practically illegible, though I could not be certain whether that was due to his handwriting or to my dispirited mood. I took the prescription to a pharmacy in the center of town. The shelves were stocked with multicolored boxes of pharmaceutical products, lit from above by blinding fluorescence. I waited for a short time, then the pharmacist took the small paper and asked me if I would like to wait while he filled the order or to come back later…