Cometh the hour

Nipped up the road for some milk, and the dreich streets of Dunbar were asking to be blipped.

While I was taking a picture of this close with its nicely grungy-shiny ceramic tiles, I couldn't help thinking something was missing; a figure, perhaps, silhouetted in the entrance.

"Scuse me," said a voice behind me. How d'you like that? Mr Silhouette had turned up just in time.

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