We had all agreed to meet up. Twenty years ago when we were just kids we had decided to find each other later in life and be the old gang again.

We would discuss how many of our life goals had been achieved.

But Sam had died five months before, and none of us knew how many of his bucket list points had been ticked off.

Becks had done a few. She had been the most successful of all of us. She’d gone to Paris and had got married. She even had two children and a good job leading into a promising career.

As we all sat, middle aged, middle class mates, around a cards table at the school reunion, I remembered Sam’s main aim: To die a worthwhile death.

I didn’t know if a car crash was worthwhile. But at thirty seven I doubted it.

My list was depressingly empty. As a teenager there were so many things that I knew now I would never achieve like going into space. I still had hopes on some though:
-Go on Safari.
-See the seven wonders..
-Find the love of my life.

Would I manage it in the month I had left?

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