The present

Drinking hot milk, Leonard reflected on a day well spent. He had left his job, which had been top of his list of Things To Do This Year when he had been thirty. He had turned forty, which was daunting until you compared it with the prospect of not turning forty. He had broken up with his girlfriend, who stopped him having any fun, and stolen a bottle of bourbon from the off-licence opposite his flat.

He slugged from the bottle, knocked back the last of the milk, swilled the liquids around in his mouth, swallowed and went to bed.

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