Canal Roach: Trapped in a Sisyphean Loop - Pt.10

The alarm went off at an hour normally reserved for milkmen, insomniacs, and people who have made deeply questionable life choices the night before. Naturally, I sprang into action with all the urgency of a damp sponge, eventually peeling myself from the duvet and setting off for Tramp Alley Canal with the kind of optimism that only a fisherman—or a fool—can truly muster. The sky, bless it, was a perfect overcast grey, the sort of sky that whispers, “Today, my friend, you will either catch a fish… or develop character.” I packed light, confident, and—crucially—maggotless. Because today was not a day for wriggling protein. No. Today was bread day. A full-scale, no-holds-barred, gluten-fuelled assault.The plan, inspired by the legendary George Burton method (a man who I suspect once bullied a roach into submission using nothing but a crust and a stern glance), was simple in theory and ludicrous in practice. Two slices of bread sacrificed themselves heroically, mashed into what can only…