PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
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The rental was one of several identical row houses, one bedroom plus a loft, one-and-a-half baths, small kitchen and dining area. The neighborhood was quiet. It was a perfect place to finish his last novel. It would also be his first novel, but the publisher said it was a sure bestseller.
At seventy-one, his first and only bestseller after laboring for over forty years. It cost him his marriage, any connection to his family, and certainly his sobriety.
He could have it done and submitted in a few months. Once published, then the long, drunken descent into his last goodnight.
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