Hank sipped his port. “I don’t know. I still have an urge to ‘do.’ I feel like we need to prep for something, but I don’t know what. We can’t plant. We can’t build. I am socked in by a storm, perfectly comfortable and with months of provisions. It’s made me slow down. I’m not taking stock of my life, or saying I have regret in how I lived my life, but this pandemic, it’s brought a new kind of order to my mind. It’s simplified everything.” Hank continued to drink. “I’m rambling, because I’m a little drunk. What I think I’m trying to say, what I think I’ve realized is, the rapture has
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