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The Diary of the Unborn
He had been making ready for this moment, and never crossed his mind that anything would be needed except courage. All he had to do was to transfer to paper the interminable restless monologue that had been running inside his head literally for years. He began writing in sheer panic, only imperfectly aware of what he was setting down. His small but childish handwriting straggled up and down the page,. shedding first its capital letters, and finally even its full stops. April 4, 1984. Last night to the flicks, all war films. One very good one of a ship full of refugees being bombed somewhere in the Mediterranean. Audience much amused by shots of a great huge fat