I just stole the first nine days of 1941. And I don’t feel too guilty about it. Actually, that’s a lie, I feel guilty as hell, I hate stealing from dead people, but the managers of the estate sale (the bastards running it weren’t even in the family!) wouldn’t have cared about five pages from some dead lady’s journal. Would anybody in their right mind have cared? Well, it doesn’t matter, they’re amazing. As soon as I find a functioning scanner I’ll put them up.