Iain Aschendale is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Iain served, without any particular distinction, in the military long enough ago that his uniforms not only no longer fit his body, but they no longer fit what Marines wear, and some of those junior to him have retired with pensions.
Some time after rejoining the civilian world, he fled the United States for the Far East, where he met a girl, and ended up staying.
The fact that they don’t share a native language prevents her from fully understanding what he writes, thus preserving their marriage.
One day he hopes to write something worthy of a paycheck.
I hope you know I’m now imagining you frantically murmuring at your laptop with occasional outbursts of enraged profanity about ducks.