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Chapter 2-2
Sleep was seldom as plentiful or as restful as Dale would like. As he woke up, he stretched gingerly because his shoulder was still achy. Damn, he was going to have to take a break from lugging heavy bags and boxes from the house, or at least do a little less in each day. He was constantly astounded at the sheer volume of stuff Aunt Mildred had managed to cram into the house. He had taken ten bags of clothing to Goodwill just this week, and that only brought him to a point where maybe half the clothing had been dealt with. He glanced at his watch. It read two A.M. Crap. He shifted position, trying to find a more comfortable way to lay. The Ziploc he had taken to bed with him slid off the edge of the mattress and hit the floor with a sloshy splat. Dale stared at the wall in the darkness. M
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