Yesterday the collection of the books from the research facility went well and was successful, the people were all friendly as always, and generous too. It is hard to tell what is to happen with the thirty books, but they themselves were unsure of what to do with the remaining nine hundred and seventy.
The books are nicely produced, hardcover, and weigh a kilo each.
The visit to the artists afterwards was a small disappointment, they were out. Left a copy of the book and went home.
The rest of the day was filled with dissapointments, a visit to the cultural italians place was frightening, it was just a horde of old people being cultural. Thee was the old picture of the culture vulture feeding off the freshly dead.
This morning, woke up with the alarm on the 'phone. That alarm is proving useful again, without this reminder there would be nothing there to hinder the bodies wildest stories. The old body would tell any lie and grant any dream to remain in the warmth of the bed.
Bathroom and breakfast, all done.
There will be time to have a shower, the day is young. It will also be possible to deliver a book to the collector, as promised.
The day outside is beautiful.
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