“What do you think?”

The publisher sat at his desk, his eyes magnified through the round lenses of his glasses. His face was soft yet difficult to read. After some time he spoke. “I have a lot to say,” he said.

I’m sure you do.

“I’m sure you do, sir.”

The publisher regarded him with one eyebrow raised, unsure of what to make of this response. “The idea is very interesting but there’s just something about the execution that I-”

“It’s not marketable.”

The publisher stopped and slowly removed his glasses, setting them down on the desk next to the open book before him. “That’s correct, sir. It’s not marketable at all.”

“There’s no way you’d ever publish anything like this,” said the author.

“Not in its current form, no. And to do so, you’d need to change a few things.”

“Like everything?”

“Like everything.”

A silence filled the air now. There was an odd comfort to it, though - much like the hug a child gets after failing to finish a race, or the first swig of beer after a terrible day at work. The author’s eyes drifted upwards. He stared at the ceiling with a look of calm serenity across his face.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I’m sorry,” said the publisher, finally breaking the silence.

“You don’t need to be,” answered the author, snapping himself out of his trance.

“But I am.”

The author looked at the publisher. For the first time, he could see the humanity behind his eyes.

With a sigh of both exhaustion and relief, the author stood up from his chair and brushed himself off. The publisher in turn stood, picking up the book with him. The pair held out their hands and met in a firm and decisive handshake.

“Thank you for your time,” said the author.

“Thank you for yours,” answered the publisher. “Would you mind if I ask you for something?”

“Of course. What is it?”

Suddenly appearing somewhat shy, the publisher broke contact with the eyes of the author briefly. “We can’t publish you, it’s true, but I must say I quite liked it. Could I maybe… buy a copy off you?”

Taken aback, the author broke into a smile. “Definitely,” he answered. “Why don’t you hang on to that one? If you need more, just contact me - I believe you have my number.”

The publisher was wearing his own smile now. He reached his hand forward once again, and when they shook it was with a much more hearty gusto. “Thank you,” he said.

“Thank you, too,” answered the author.

Without another word, the author turned and set off for the door. It was just when he grabbed the handle that he heard the publisher speak for one last time.

“Have a good day… and good luck,” he said.

“Same to you,” replied the author, before stepping out the door and closing it gently behind him.

What do you think?