Who was Gladstone Adams?

You know when your windscreen wipers need replacing?

When you start to get those splodge marks in your vision field?

I went a bit past that.

You know when, if you wait too long, the rubber edges sort of get a bit ratty?

Then a bit rattier?

And then bits start to flap independently?

Well, just after that they turn into a sort of monochrome sea anemone.

I was there.

And it started raining.

So I stopped at the garage on the way home and bought a new one.

10.05am.

The old lady came out, measured it – she had to weave the tentacles together to get a straight line but she didn’t criticise.

Then she went inside, rooted around behind the oil cans and came back with one.

I paid.

10.08.

I opened the box.

10.09.

I pulled off the old one.

10.10.

And read the instructions. 10.11.

Someone drew up and bought petrol.

Someone else.

10.59.

11.15 the woman came back out.

“Ca Va?”

“Non”

She took them from my hands.

She fitted them.

11.16.

Is it just me?