"Wouldn't you rather be a rock star?"
"It would be a damn sight easier, I'd allow."
" No, I want to be a brilliant writer.'
"Brilliant no less, I could make you rich."
" I would sell my soul to be the greatest writer today."
" Listen I'll do what I can, I mean you seem like a good enough kind of fellow, but I am fairly low level you see, I mean I only work here- tell you what I'll run it past my manager see what he says."
"Okay" Danny said feeling a little like he was trying to buy a new car. And again the weird door between time and space opened and closed and the demon was gone. A brief time later he was back.
"Listen Danny I want you to know that I went to bat for you in there, I really did . The thing is you are a little upside down with the whole soul thing, I mean there has been a good deal of depreciation, you've got some damage there too. Bottom line is we are gonna have to take a pass."
"How about Grisham good?'
" Maybe just a popular blog...?"
" Listen sit down here with me", Danny sat with him on the side of the bathtub and they talked about what they could do.
When Danny woke up he had a shit taste in his mouth and the kind of strange sense of memory that you have after a night of disjointed dreams, this one had taken the cake though he wasn't sure he had ever had one that seemed so real. He sat up and saw a pint of bourbon on the milk crate along with a pack of generic cigarettes, neither had been opened. So, reaching he busted the seal on the Kentucky pain killer first and drank deep,
"What the hell it's not like I'll miss it", and tore the cellophane open on the smokes, shook one loose and lit it before crossing the room to the mess of papers scattered across his makeshift desk.