It took me awhile to find this again, it's a passage from Heart Shaped Box where in our hero Jude is remembering a part of his bad childhood. It's basically one long extemperaneous thought by the main character. When I read it, I said to myself, "hooooey, watch this boy run!"
Jude thought about the guns he'd owned, and the dogs he'd owned, and running barefoot with the dogs in the hillocky acres behind his fathers farm, the thrill of running with the dogs in the dawn light, and the clap of his fathers shotgun as he fired at the ducks, and how his mother and Jude had run away from him together when Jude was nine, only at the greyhound his mother lost her nerve and called her parents, and wept to them, and they told her to take the boy back to his father and try to make peace, make peace with her husband and with God, and his father was waiting with the shotgun on the porch when they returned, and he smashed her in the face with the gun stock and then put the barrel on her left breast and said he'd kill her if she ever tried to run away again. When Jude---only he was Justin then---tried to walk inside the house, his father said, "I'm no mad at you, boy, this ain't your fault," and caught him in one arm and hugged him to his leg. He bent for a kiss and said he loved him, and Justin automatically said heloved him back, a memory he still flinched from, a morally repugnant act, an act so shameful he could not bear to be the person who had done it, so he had eventually needed to become someone else. Was that the worst thiong he'd ever done, planted that Judas kiss on his fathers cheek while his mother bled, taken the worthless coin of his fathers affection?