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Seventy two

Cult

I head over to Irish’s home the next morning. I want to see how he is doing. I know it must have been tough for him to have to see that and now, I have to make sure that he is okay. I use the doer bell at the front of the door and I wait until he opens the door.

It is the same house that he lived in with Sarah and I wonder how many time he thinks about her a day. It must so painful being cooped up in here.

“I ring the door bell again.” He must have spent last night drinking and looking for joy at the end of the bottle.

When the door opens, it reveals Irish. It seems he just got up from end and the sun is hitting his eyes as he opens the door.

It’s so early. Can’t I get a day off? He ask and I smirk.

I came to check up on you. I answer as he lets me in and I step inside.

“Everyone has been doing that.” You people need to let a man grieve for his dead wife. Irish says and he takes another beer from his fridge.

“It’s a new day.” I say to him, talking about the other cans of beers a
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