Imprudently, I decide to go out for the newspaper in the morning, forgetting to dress in anything other than a dressing gown. I make my way into town, and into a (non-existant) small, dark newsagent's on Hope Street under the side of Central Station. I pick up a copy of the Glasgow South and Eastwood Extra (a freesheet), walk outside, and realise that I am in no fit state to be walking the streets.
I turn south, and try to work out the least embarrassing way home. I near home, and must cross a bridge over the railway. A crowd of very small children torment me. One of them follows me onto the bridge. I warn him that he could fall onto the overhead lines, as the bridge has no sides. He seems unconcerned.
I turn to run, jump through my first-floor bedroom window, and slam it shut. I look round to see the urchin try to break in.
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