i plunge down the steep curve of st denis road
on the final furlong of my journey home
savouring the gravity-assisted momentum
accrued and released from the long steady climb up swarthmore
i lean into the bend to maintain my equlibium
carefully avoiding the scattering of potholes
borrowed from blackburn lancashire
which threaten to send me flying over the handlebars
when suddenly to my left i spy a death machine chugging along a side road
to the junction with my road
i am travelling at quite a rate of knots
surely the driver has spotted my high-vis vest and intends to give way?
she executes a right turn into my path
forcing me to perform an emergency test on my well worn break pads
blimey - that was close!
however there is no apology
no polite acknowledgement of poor road sense or momentary distraction
just an unpleasant scowl that successfully communicates the message:
'get off my road!'