CHAPTER TWELVE
Sometimes Brian’s best ideas came at night when he stopped thinking. On waking up, or in the shower, or as he was engaged in something else. All of a sudden, he would get a flash of insight. Like a piece of a puzzle falling into place. Wednesday morning dawned clear, but no inspiration brightened his day.
Brian woke early and grabbed a cup of coffee from the automatic coffee maker that greeted him each day with the welcome aroma of fresh roasted java. That was his one luxury. He lived alone ever since his wife left, and his living quarters were spartan. Old furniture he had collected from second hand shops, choosing comfort over looks. The kitchen was tiny, as he didn’t really cook, and he had converted what was intended to be a dining room into an office of sorts. A desk,
