Flip

The old man sat alone. He had lit a few candles to illuminate things enough to continue on. Flip. One step closer. He studied the table. Flip. He needed that. He started to smile to himself. He'd been at this for so long. This was his 37th attempt. He was sure this was the one. Flip. His heroin was all across his face. Flip.
  
  Wait. That wasn't right. The one he needed. This wasn't it. His smile left. He angrily gathered all of the objects back together. 38. He began again. Flip. The same process. Looking. Searching. Flip. He knew he could do it. There was no way he could fail again. Flip. He was afraid to smile as he grew near the end. Flip. He was almost there. So close. Flip.
  
  39. He had lost track of hours long this has gone on. He'd been so focused  that he'd lost...