Mort ordinarily guards downstairs at night. For whatever reason, he decides tonight to come upstairs and goes to sleep in front of the bathroom. I woke up in the middle of the night and instead of doing my business, I tripped over the woolly POS and went sprawling.
I dunno what’s up with him. The other night in the wee hours he starts crying and howling. Sounds like his heart is broken asunder and washed away in sorrow. I go blearily staggering downstairs to see what’s up... and the fag is chipper and happy and wagging.
I am going to kill Mort.
Tomorrow.
😴
Did you pray on it? Ask Abba what's the matter?
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