Progress Update: The Last Honest Man in Washington

This is going rather slowly. I just finished Chapter 1, significantly later than expected. Oh well. I have faith in my ability to recover. It is rather longer than expected: 16 pages and 4600 words. Not too shabby. Ralph's new campaign slogan is "The Last Honest Man in Washington" and Erikson's is "Change We Can Trust". And yes, Erikson's is indeed a gramatically correct hommage to Barack Obama. I really can't say much more if I want to write another chapter and a quarter today. But here is a brief excerpt, anyways.

He reflected tersely upon his lost life and forced himself to spin faster. The objects of his contemplation blurred beyond recognition, along with his pained reminiscences. He lowered his gaze to his feet and watched his scuffed black shoes spin in rhythm with the world. He felt the sum of his doubts well up in his throat and wondered if he was going to be sick. He shut his eyes and willed the speed to increase. The inertia carried he and his along. He missed him so much. He kept trying to forget, but he couldn’t. Whenever the CIA briefed him or a military official tried to explain it to him or Erikson made some vicious attack on national television or a dove—or even, for God’s sake, a pigeon—flew past his window, he remembered who he used to be and what he was now. He used to be the Baltimore District Attorney. He used to be successful and popular. He used to have morals. He used to do his duty, and never second-guess it. He used to know, with every fiber of his being, that he was doing right. He used to be an optimist, and happy all the time. But now… Now, sure, he was the President of the United States, but he still felt as powerless as he had as Vice President. Now, he was a failure and had approval ratings in the mid 20s. Now, he had lost all his once precious morals. Now, he did his duty—did it better than ever before—but second-guessed every single move he made. Now, he knew, with every fiber of his being, that he was not doing right. Now, he was closer to a nihilist than anything else, and truly happy around only one person, moderately happy around two, and thoroughly miserable around everyone else and by himself. So what about now? Now, life was a veritable Hell.
He knew that he should think that all of this was because of Mark. He knew he should realize that Mark had destroyed his life by asking him to replace Davidson. He should have known then, a year and a half ago, that nothing but trouble could come from being the second most powerful man in the world, and he should have said no. In fact, he did try to say no, at first. But Secretary Navarro, acting as Mark’s nonexistent Chief of Staff, had said it was President Adams’s personal wish that he take the offer; Navarro had told him that it was his duty to his country to take the offer. Ralph had caved; he should have insisted that he could not do it. It wasn’t Mark’s fault. It was his. He had accepted the damned job. He had let Mark warp him into his own personal yes-man. He had made the conscious decision to carry on Mark’s wars and policies after his death. He was wholly responsible for his own unhappiness.