Date: 09 November 2003 08:05:55
The Minster Bells chime 4am, myself sitting on a hard kitchen bench in the old Friary. Through one window shaddows dance in the cloisters. Cold seeps through my socks from the bare stone floor.
A sudden yawn indicates my need to return to bed - at a time that monks of old would be wending their way to prayer.
Goodnight - or is it GoodMorning