My leg isn’t getting any better; all the way around Tretham I was stopping. It could have been the heat but there’s more chance of it being Clive or bleed related. My head has been constantly hurting at the back, which is neither Clive nor bleed location so it could just be dehydration. I’m drinking more to compensate but it doesn’t seem to have any effect.

The letter from Toogood to the Dr’s goes on about talking to someone, which as I said to him, it’s not something worth doing. What’s the point? They know I haven’t got long and I know I haven’t got long, it’s just a matter of knowing roughly when.

Within the next few weeks I will be nearer getting things sorted for the auction; hopefully it will have some lasting effect after I’ve gone, but it would be nice to get a good amount before I do. And if one fucking person calls me ‘inspirational’, I’ll fucking kill them; I hate that word for so many reasons.

One thought on “Milk

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