Sunday, September 21, 2003
10.30 a.m.
I can't really leave it any longer so I start to get ready. I put the radio on and a shave and a shower later I'm starting to feel good. Everyone begins to congregate in my room, my mate Chris with a bottle of rum. For courage, he says. As if I need any. I take a measure anyway, knock it back in one. Awful stuff. Then it's time to go.
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