Daft Old Duffer is back and this week he’s sounding slightly paranoid. Let him know if you agree. Ed
Quite often, my walks take me along a stretch of road that is virtually deserted once the morning school run is finished. Sometimes I cross this road as soon as I’ve turned onto it. At others I cross at random points along the way, or at the far end.
But whenever or wherever I decide to cross, at that precise moment a car will come along. Then, usually another, just too close behind to prevent me crossing between them. Then a third, coming the other way.
Once I’ve crossed, the road is once again devoid of any movement. So devoid you could safely stroll right down the middle of it, end to end.
I can assure you this doesn’t happen just now and then. It, or something very like it, happens without fail every time. I’ve tried various dodges, like pretending to cross and then not, or darting at the kerb without warning. But nothing fools those cars.
I know it doesn’t matter a whole lot. But it’s enough of an irritation to make me mumble to myself as I totter along.
A few Sundays ago I tried another tack. I went out for an early bike ride instead. So early there was no sign of life anywhere. No pedestrians, no vehicles.
Until I wanted to turn onto another road, when, each time, a car trundled past at exactly the right time to force me to stop and wait.
Afterwards – nothing again. Not a sign of life along the whole long stretch of tarmac. In either direction.
You think I’m being paranoid? I’m not being paranoid. I’ve upset God is what it is.
Image: Dominic under CC BY-SA 2.0
