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Kick Em With Your Vegan Boots

The voice of a Syrian on the radio rouses me from my pillow. I wake up. In a developed part of Europe. Relieved.

There are several thousand human animals embarked on a desperate journey to this very spot. Only border control stands between me and them. It would be churlish to complain about being down to my last five pound note.

So, I head out into the market place.

"Chicken-friendly" staff needed for new chicken outlet.

"Nuclear-friendly pilot needed to fly atomic weapons to Japan", I tell the new manager.

He doesn't think the analogy adds value to the conversation. I am shown the doorway. I am free to walk out into sunlight.

It is the most chicken-friendly thing I'll do all day.

Story by:

Phil Doran

24 August 2015