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It was a nasty autumn morning with rain sprinkling down on people like peanut-piss when I died. Mine was an ordinary death, as ordinary as the death of a great leader could get of course. I have been warned many times by the doctors to quit the two pleasures that I had in this life as if to put my white and wrinkled body more to the test of time. But what else is a single man of my age left to mingle with other than his tobacco and alcohol? And they were good companions too… not pretentious and talkative but elegant and graceful in their silent camaraderie.