Photo: ODT filesIt was three in the afternoon and I was curled up in bed, feeling rather dusty and full of self-pity. I lay there, cradling a half-empty pizza box, wishing sleep would overtake me and cure me of my hangover. Thinking it might be one of my flatmate's friends, I dragged myself out of bed and opened the door. If you have lived in any major community, you've probably encountered door-to-door proselytising in one form or another. I guess there's some consolation in the fact their long exchange with me had potentially given my neighbours the chance to escape.

Source: Otago Daily Times July 05, 2017 18:45 UTC