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Fighting A Losing Battle

I took a swig. ‘Mom’s gone now. And Landon. They left together. They are heading to Jevena. I don’t know if they’re ever coming back.’ I wiped my mouth. ‘Do you think I should forgive them?’ Mom’s parting words were still ringing in my ears. ‘What do you think Mom meant? Was she trying to tell me something?’ I emptied the bottle. Chardonnay was too mellow, kind of like Dad’s personality. Maybe that was why he favoured it so much. To drown my sorrows, I needed something a lot stronger, like vodka. ‘Dad, I don’t think I can hold on to Candour. Grandpa’s siding with Rainey. I don’t stand much of a chance. Will you think I’m useless?’ I pressed my cheek against the tombstone. It was cold and hard and unresponsive. ‘Dad, I miss you.’ A sea breeze caressed my face. Its gentle touch felt like Dad’s. ‘Dad, is that you?’ I thought I was all cried out, but I wasn’t. I hugged the tombstone and bawled my eyes out. *** Someone once told me that insomniacs were haunted by memories of their past. I w

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