Well before dawn, he rolled out of bed and dressed in his crisp, clean white uniform. The shirt had bright brass buttons, and the hat with its stiff black brim was iconic. He smiled at himself in the rearview mirror as he started up his truck.
His first stop was the distributor, where he made small talk with the foreman as the back was loaded with the day’s deliveries.
As the sun rose, he made his rounds, leaving a bottle on every writer’s doorstep.
The Idea Man enjoyed his work, even if none of his clients ever gave him credit.

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