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February 1989

Good Friends

Nine years ago, when I had just a few years of sobriety, I met a young man at an open meeting. We chatted a while and then Matthew (which is not his real name) took a seat next to mine as the meeting began. When it was over, we exchanged pleasantries and comments about interesting parts of the speaker's story. Soon I said goodbye and left to drive home since I live twenty miles from our meeting place and was even then an older lady.

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