"For months now, Rebecca had felt what she could only describe as a certain subtle wrongness--not within herself, but in the world. She found it impossible to place its source, for the fault in the nature of things seemed to reside both everywhere and nowhere...Sometimes she would fork a thick eggy chunk of French toast into her mouth during a Sunday brunch to find that a taste of soap lay beneath the flavor of maple syrup; sometimes when she kissed her husband his breath smelled of loam....And take the President, for example. Sometimes when Rebecca would see him on television, giving a speech on the pleasures of austerity or making a cameo appearance in the reality show that detailed the lives of his two teenage sons, she'd think: Something's a little wrong. He seems like the wrong person."
Version Control, by Dexter Palmer (copyright 2016; quote is from page 3 of the Vintage Books/Penguin Random House trade paperback edition, January 2017).