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CHAPTER Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Sam stood up, closed his eyes and massaged his temples. He wondered if the work would be any easier if he were stoned, or did a couple of lines? Probably not, it might even make him worse.

Only H, or crippling amounts of alcohol, could make him numb enough him to deal with the footage, and he didn’t like either of those highs;, certainly couldn’t work on them. It wasn’t just the extreme images that were getting to him, it was also his Mac. It kept playing up.

As he’d promised Jimmy, Sam was using the dead time to edit the footage, taking out the worst bits and preparing clips to splice into the film. He was working in the studio space. They’d already rented it and he might as well put it to some use. Plus he was reluctant to work on the footage in his home. As stupid as it sounded, he was afraid it might taint his apartment.

It had actually taken him a while to build up the courage to go through the footage. Every time he viewed it he was back in the lock up, taped
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