92.
   I lifted the glass and admired the moonlight sparkling in the ice. I inhaled the rich, heady aroma and felt the bite on my tongue and the burn in my mouth. The taste of scotch digs into your soul and comforts it. It’s an anchor. It’s a rock. “The mention of jazz brought me out of my rage.”, I sighed. “A scotch in my hand in a bar with a jazz pianist conducting the din of warm conversation is a memory that will stay with me till the end of my life and help me meet it with a smile on my face.” I emptied the glass and looked up at the moon. “And what about the rock that hides the real truth, the rock that hides the pathway to hell? That centipede was laughing at us, laughing at our journey. What hope is there for us if nothing will ever change? What chance do we have against these shitty things thrown at us if our journey is for nothing?”

   “The fact that they are being thrown at us proves that our journey is not for nothing”, countered Nanette.
   “The fact that we have survived them proves we may be able to change things.”, said Pat as he looked at Nanette fondly.
   Claudia looked up at me. “Humanity itself is on the journey with us. We managed to get this far. We have each other. Even if there is no chance of succeeding, we must continue. If we don’t succeed, we at least leave a path for others to follow and as long as there is hope, others will follow.”
   “As long as there is hope.”, I repeated. I looked into her dark, bottomless eyes. “You are an inspiration, a very beautiful inspiration.”