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January 30, 2003
Everybody is sick. I mean everybody. Half the cast of TO KILL A MOCKIKNGBIRD are sniffling, snuffling and coughing which is really ironic considering that the play takes place in the middle of a summer heat wave. Nkrumah has been coughing since before Thanksgiving. Gets better for a bit and then relapses. Cynthia caught a touch and I stayed home with her for a week. No fever, just a cough and runny nose which meant I was chasing a moving target, Kleenex in hand. We're in the middle passage of winter. Gray days and pestilence. Nothing to do but wait.