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.
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