Then later, walking on the dark South Inch, a big hairy dog galloped past me heading to catch up with its human, until a few seconds afterwards I felt a nudge by my knee and looking down I found the dog with my glove in its mouth - a glove I did not know that I had dropped - and the dog nudged me again, until I accepted the glove and moved on. A Retriever? How clever, how kind.
But then as I approached the walls of Perth prison, just beyond those glimmering buildings up there on the right, a dismal December dread suddenly filled me. I don't know why, although I have an idea. And I felt cold, and old, and alone, neither wanting to walk forward or back. What time was it? What should I do? The work was done by then. A bit further on and a few miserable visitors were leaving the prison - two women, one child, one bent and hobbling old man. I changed my mind three times, turned back, and went home; where a headache grew. I felt miserable. Nobody knew. My mood is lifting now, with no more sore head, in early bed. Goodnight.