“Let’s be patient out there.”
I repeated this to myself, trying to summon inner calm, as I drove home after dropping off the kids at school. I was desperate for my caffeine and Ritalin mix to line up properly and give me a fighting chance at getting through the morning. Instead, I found myself rolling straight into a bizarre territorial encounter on that road near the soccer field.
She appeared ahead of me, maybe a visitor. No one local would choose the exact centre of the tar as their personal catwalk unless they believed the rest of us were placed here to applaud. Wrapped in a baby blue fluffy tracksuit and carrying two water bottles, one in each hand, she moved with the slow, ponderous gait of someone who does not enjoy walking, who needs momentum to get going.
The stare-down
The road narrowed. I slowed. Where was I meant to go?
She held her middle line. When I edged forward, at about 1km per two hours, she turned and delivered a look so dramatic, so withering, I felt morning shame, which wasn’t fair. I hadn’t even started my morning, let alone done anything shameful. Not yet.
Then, as I tried to pass, came the head shake. Not the irritated flick of a normal pedestrian. A slow, crushingly disappointed shake. The kind that says she has judged my entire personality and found every part of it severely lacking. All I wanted was to get home, shoot up some caffeine and remind myself that humanity was still broadly manageable. Now it was kombi vs human armadillo, at dawn nogal. This was going absolutely nowhere.
A defeat before coffee
Eventually, she stepped aside with the icy reluctance of someone yielding to a problem creature rather than a person.
I stared straight ahead and continued, crawling past, realising I had started my day by losing an argument that never contained any actual words.
ends./
Read more: The Kromme River Groyne – Photo Of The Day by Luke Patterson
Recent Comments