Chance had always kept a spare key to the gates of his parents condo. They weren't colossal, nor the most expensive, but it was sturdy enough to an extent. The exterior of the house was as visible as broad daylight. Even after the house had been a few years old, it's white paint was still shining.
On the porch, Chance saw his father. Richard Gordon had a blue and white checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Those trousers of his were formal and olive green, which seemed to blend well with his brown shoes. The man's hair was as gray as the concrete road, and his eyes, they struggled to become wide open.
"Chance?" Richard began to speak. He wanted to get up, but his mind told him to stay in his chair. "That you?"
"Hey dad." Chance spoke to his father. Seeing him was a blessing, and it would be the case by the time his mother came to his view. He didn't often have the time to see his parents, when the city if not the nation needed Havertons liked him.
"Is mom around?"
