He slowly thumbed through the book, scanning page after page.
His heart raced.
His chest tightened as he read lie after lie.
Horrified by the words, rage took him.
What is this, someone’s ideal of a cruel heartless joke?
This is not literature, it’s all lies!
The facts, the times, places, the order all wrong.
This is most certainly not my work, and not my life!
Who would do such a thing?
This will destroy my reputation.
He he lifted the book, slammed it closed,
and threw it into the burning fireplace.
He reached for the bottle he kept in the side drawer of his desk, and poured himself a shot, then another.
Watching the book, as it was consumed by the flames. Memories hidden from his past, flooded his mind.
He poured himself another drink.

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