It was a cold night by the canal when Fintan Clinch, shocked and feeling like a trapped rat, settled down to sleep in a ditch. His green raincoat wrapped him and the grass was soft. But it was damn cold and ending up like this had numbed him to the core. He wondered where his family and friends had got to and agonized over what they would make of it all. But, as sleep took hold, a dawning set in that he was far from the world of family and friends; and a great distance too from concerns like striving for that perfect job, saving for that rainy day or paying off a thirty-year mortgage. The plain fact was he was nowhere near the relentless ...