[Note: Good news! I've finished writing the ending and after editing it all, I'll be mass releasing the rest of the chapters in one go in a couple of days...Look forward to it!]
—
Kafka finally slumped down on the sofa in the secondary living room, looking utterly defeated. He leaned back with a long, tired sigh, rubbing his temples as if he had just finished running a marathon only to trip right before the finish line.
The kind of loss that wasn't physically exhausting, but emotionally draining.
Today simply wasn't his day. His luck, it seemed, had taken a vacation.
He tilted his head back against the cushion, staring up at the ceiling, and for a long moment, he said nothing. Then, despite his weariness—a small, lopsided smile formed on his lips.
Because even if his luck had betrayed him today, life certainly hadn't.
He thought about his family, the strange, mismatched, beautiful mess of it all.
