You can’t always tell how aged and infirmed a tree is.
It is neither possible to calculate the likelihood of gales sending it crashing onto your path nor judge the opposing merits of driving as fast as possible to leave the probability just behind you, or proceeding so slowly that you can observe its coming.
Jack chose speed.
Unfortunately - just before the roundabout on the A40 - he was stopped at the police control for just this.
“Speed kills sonny,” the officer said smiling. He seemed happy to have caught someone doing something infractious, and yet unaware of how silly he looked as the gales ripped the helmet from his had sending it - and him – spinning into the muddy ditch alongside.
Jack was fairly certain that laughing was not a good choice, yet convinced that fleeing the scene….. unwise - despite the opportunity – so he waited.
His girlfriend’s thoughts echoed in-between his ears, although she herself was absent.
“Everything has its consequences.”
This time it meant walking.
The constable - flustered, angry and now filthy – impounded the car and took Jack’s licence.
“You should listen to her,” he added, reading Jack’s surprised mind.
“F…,” Jack swallowed the other three letters, and the you, he had intended to say and finished instead with, “f…anks.”
And stomped homeward.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment