My Uncle the Novelist

I am a writer, a novelist, my book could be a best seller he says. I nod my head, wanting to encourage my uncle, who rarely is this confident. He looks up and asks me to spell two words. I do. He seems pleased, boasts a bit more about his novel, then falls asleep. He has been bragging about his novel for years, this is his first sentence. I look at it when he puts his glasses down and begins to nod off. It was a dark and stormy night, he has written. Great start! It was the best of times, the worst of times. I hear him snoring. He is worn out. Did he finally write something? My aunt asks. I nod. It has taken him eighty years, she tells me. I know this, but he has started now. We will encourage his efforts. Because we both love our aspiring novelist. A man with dementia who has a dream.