STRANGE ENCOUNTER OF THE HARE KIND
Spurtle met this unusual character propped up against the wall of Simpson & Marwick on Broughton Street last night.
Regrettably, he’d had a few.
To our enquiry about his well-being, the hare replied: ‘Aye, Ah’m sure ye kent, there wur times whin Ah chatted mair than Ah cuid chow’.
Spurtle nodded neutrally, wracking our brains to work out what he meant and whether we’d ever met him before.
‘But thro it a, whin there wis doot,’ he continued, ‘Ah laibt it up, n gooed it oot.’
‘Good for you!’ we responded.
He looked us suspiciously in the nose from close quarters, pale and sweaty, spittle-flecked, as if semicolons no longer mattered.
‘Ah’ve seen it a, n staundit tall ….’
His expression glazed for a moment. He seemed to be listening to someone singing from beyond a curtain.
He swayed, recovered; a twitch of the ears, a single tawny fang: ‘And did it in mah ain chairmin and inimitable fashion, ye Bas.
'Noo, away, pal, n git tae fuck.’
--------------
[That link in full: https://www.facebook.com/FeketeValerSior/?hc_location=ufi]