I awoke to another strange noise last night. I am pleased to report that it wasn’t by neighbours fucking again (or bouncing or trampolines).
At 3am, in a dazed and confused state, my initial thoughts were that a drunkard had somehow found his way over the garden fence and was lying, suffering in a bed of nettles.
As I had received no missed calls on my mobile from White, Spratt or any other known drinkers, I listened again. Now more awake, I realised the noise was, in fact, an owl (whether it was drunk or not, I don’t know).
I spent some time looking for my new feathered friend, but alas I couldn’t spot him, although he did carry on hooting for quite some time. If he wants to come back tonight and wake me up with his night call, he’s more than welcome – I may even buy some hamsters and gerbils from the pet shop for him to eat.
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