The Publisher Has My Manuscript
“Man. I can’t believe I did that.”
“You did well, you know that.” Poe shoves the half-empty beer towards my fingers.
“That took a shit-ton of time to write. It’s nerve-wracking.”
“I sold The Raven for fifty bucks, you’ll be okay.”
I choke on air as I fake laugh, “but I didn’t write anything remarkably fascinating. I didn’t shove dead people underneath floor boards.”
Poe holds my hand upon the mahogany bar, “but you don’t have to shove dead people underneath floor boards. If you did, people would just think you’re my copy cat.”
“Can I be?” I smirk at the man with dark eyes.
“Oh come on, you wrote an exceptional book. The publisher will love it. You wrote about you from your perspective. I never could. I always hid behind a story.”
I chug the golden beer and swallow a burp back. “You’re right. I didn’t hide behind any bells. Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Anytime,” he sips on some whiskey. His reflection in the bar mirror stares back at his sullen face.
Written by,
E.S. Danon