It was nearly nine-thirty in the morning before Rock became conscious enough to get out of his front-bedroom bed. Within the first minute, he thought that perhaps he had forgotten something scheduled for nine a.m. He wasn't sure how important the matter was but began to worry after he noticed a check from the paper on his desk. There was no way for him to calculate the significance of his financial responsibilities, certainly not in his currently addled state of mind.
Rock's cat Jo wanted out. That was all he knew for sure.
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