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More Haste…
I have completed my house move! Well, I have yet to re-assemble my bed, and I can barely move for boxes, but still… I missed last week’s Friday Fictioneers but I now have my internet connected. Fibre at last! Call me Mr Speedy.
So without further ado, here is my submission, written to a photo submitted by Fictioneerer Sandra Crook. As always, Rochelle is hosting the whole shebang, so be sure to check out her website, and you can also read the other submissions here.
Copyright Sandra Crook
I don’t believe it. Another tractor! Can’t these farmers move their straw in the middle of the night or something? What’s he doing? Fifteen miles per hour? Ridiculous. What about my dinner?
Ah, I think I can slip past… no! That was close. Damn cars coming at me. Maybe in a minute, I think there’s a straight bit. Here we go… oops. Dammit! More traffic. I can’t believe this. Pull over, moron! I’ve had enough of this. I’m going past. There’s never anything on this stretch. Foot down, yes! No! NO!
Jim Preston. Loving husband. Father of three.
Idiot.
Dead.
Saved by the Subconscious
I, like most, have had my fair share of road problems. Little accidents, near misses, breaking down, driving over bits of wood in the carriageway and so on. Hell, last year I nearly drove over Bambi!
Yesterday’s incident, however, was quite weird. I mean, you see this sort of thing happening on the TV, but…
There I was, driving down the A30 dual carriageway at 75mph 70mph on my way home from work. Traffic was extremely light. Not far from my slip-road (very close to where I nearly squashed Bambi, funnily enough) I saw a van up ahead and decided to pull in behind it rather than shoot around it.
It was only going at 50mph so obviously I was pretty annoyed (I started to wish I’d just overtaken), but impatient as I was, I kept a decent distance behind. This turned out to be a good thing.
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