Summer was just around the corner, and a letter from a close friend he'd just received made him feel even better. Someone who he considered as his best friend would be returning at the end of May. He couldn't wait. At last he'd have someone he could really talk to. They hadn't seen each other for around ten months. It was going to be good. This news gave his spirit that little extra boost it needed. Things were getting better.

Thursday morning. He'd finished work that day at 6 a.m, after almost twelve hours in the bakery. He finally slipped inbetween the bed sheets about an hour later.
A loud knocking on his door woke him up. "Hey, wake up!" He glanced over at the alarm clock, and swore. It was only 9 o'clock. He'd only been in bed two hours, but he recognised the voice and jumped out of bed, not bothering to pull on his jeans. He was so happy to see the face on the other side of the door. OK, he felt like shit but this was worth it. His friend had hardly sat down before he'd placed a drink in his hand - a good, strong vodka/Sprite. The first of many that day.

The next three hours were spent talking, smoking, drinking and listening to music. The two of them had both got new sounds to play to each other. Before lunch they went across to a friend's room, had a good smoke and then made their way to the dining room. The afternoon was taken up with more drinking, until around 6 p.m. when he had to stop as he needed to take a shower and get ready for work. He hadn't felt so rough in a long time. He smiled.