Bunny swimming in the clink

I was back in the can but this time no Gary Barlow. Apparently the tape recorder was broken. All I could think about was my escape and freedom and daisies on wild flower beds and the flight of great tits. I love great....

And so, between visits from the guards with meals on wheels, I thought about how I might overpower one and make my break. My moment came unexpectedly when the next day just after a new guard delivered my dinner (cream of broccoli soup followed by bangers in mash and topped off by apple & cider turnover) I realised the guard had left the door open...... At first I was just annoyed that I could feel an unruly draft, but then I noticed the door was ajar and before you could say 'Polaroid' I was out on the streets of Edinburgh once more seeking my redemption and freedom.

As I wandered in land this time away from Leith, I thought about the man not called Joe and how I recognised him from somewhere......

It was then, walking up Dundas Street with its fine selection of coffee houses, bars and galleries, I realised where my redemption lay - beer.


to be continued....

A X