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CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN: Hope

Joseph watched the ceiling intently. It seemed like he hadn't seen it before. He still couldn't believe it, his father was dying and here he lay, so full of life. He still couldn't wrap his head around it.

Now that he was sober, his problems had returned.

As he lay, he thought of yesterday. Yesterday. This time yesterday, he was busying having sex, so busy under sheets, pleasing someone's else's “kin” while his only family was dying. The time he ought to have spent with his father, he was busy doing only irrelevant things. He had no clue the news the afternoon would bring but who ever knew what the next five minutes would turn out? A psychic?

Joseph sighed in defeat and close his eyes and fresh tears threatened to spill. A soft knock on the door reminded him that he was not alone. Joseph wiped his tears and rose to his feet. He scoffed when he checked the time. It was exactly 8:00. Angela definitely enjoyed her rest. No doubt.

Another soft knock followed. Then another, a bit more he
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