He is having a bad day. Numbers are in his head, too many numbers, running through his brain and confusing him. I don’t understand, but I rarely do when it comes to Jason.

Source: Pixabay

The tremors are also bad today. Hands like claws grip his lighter, trying to ignite the tip of a cigarette that shakes like mad as it hangs precariously from his mouth. Why does he still smoke, I wonder? Better yet, why doesn’t Dad just quit buying the damn…