First lines of the novel I had neither the time nor the inclination to write today:

"Santiago had lived a very good life. Although he had twice been married (and twice-divorced), he'd never had children. Now, at 79, his modest apartment and simple furnishings would certainly never lead one to guess he had nearly half a million dollars in the bank.

'Compound interest,' he used to say. "The most powerful force on the planet." And then he'd wink.

But now, his rent was four days late. His landlord, Wilkie, had come knocking twice, but Santiago didn't answer. He didn't flinch. He just sat there, slumped over in his chair, a small pool of saliva having gathered on his white cotton shirt. His Fritz Handle cane rested against his left leg.

The next time, Wilkie would bring his master key. And the Sheriff — who, last November, Santiago had voted against."

— Damien Willis
October 3, 2017