I once spent 24 hours living at the whim of the dice. I was covering the Edinburgh Fringe for a newspaper and, in homage to Luke Rhinehart’s novel, The Dice Man, decided to let the numbers determine my actions.
The highlights were performing a oneminute, one-man play to a succession of one-man audiences in a telephone box on the Royal Mile; asking assorted comedians for their autographs in the bar of the Assembly Rooms; and sleeping on the
