Page Two

Previously, on page one of my exciting new novel, we met Win Muller, a family man who recently lost his job and is in the process of trying to maintain perspective in a culture where going off the deep end is rewarded with artificial sympathy.

And now, page two:

When Win returned from his mechanic, Seneca had already taken the children, Laurie and D.B., off to school. He released Kudzu from his kennel, the dog following him upstairs to gnaw its dew claw under his desk while Win searched for teaching jobs online. There was something masturbatory about the compulsive slobbery noise the dog made as it chewed on itself, but what could you do? As a formerly abused animal owned by some anonymous central Pennsylvania asshole, Kudzu had a nonstop desire to please, a trait he shared with Win, who wondered if the dog might be trained to sniff out a job for him. Someone had to do it. So far Seneca's most serious contribution to his job search had been to suggest that Win join a men's prayer group at church, which he supposed might be an opportunity for networking, although in her weaker moments she had confided that she enjoyed having him around the house since he seemed "ready for action" more often. And it was true, their sexual rate of exchange had re-blossomed with what he liked to think of his emotional availability. It was another lesson he could have learned from the dog.

None of the local schools were hiring, of course, so he went downstairs -- it was a few moments after noon -- and took down a bottle of Wild Turkey, looking at the tablespoon of bourbon left in the bottle. The bottle reminded him of some kind of antique navigational tool. What was a sextant anyway? The dog watched him avidly, the way people watch reality TV, waiting to see what might happen next. Win thought about something that a songwriter friend had told him, that drinking in the daytime was actually a highly underrated form of creative stimulation, a questionable theory but then, the friend had recently paid his mortgage off selling one of his songs to a Nashville superstar of the "new country" ilk, so maybe there was something to it. He drained the bottle without a second thought and hooked a leash to Kudzu, preparing for an early afternoon walk.