The Day

My snarling flash drive numbed my approach as I drove fifty clicks into the morning, still dark. I did obeisance to my tyrannical inbox, it showed no mercy to either side of the screen. Everyone had an axe to grind, not least of all me, but the futureless kid at the traffic lights would probably have settled for a pie. I shovelled some cholesterol into the gash in my face and chased it down with coffee, strong as the strongman from the travelling circus, I can't drink it any other way. Much grinding of axes continued, some of it by me, but the forgotten old man at the traffic lights may have settled for a pie. My inbox, by late afternoon, was plainly laughing at me, and obeisance continued on both sides of the screen. As I drove fifty clicks into the evening, now dark, my snarling flash drive hypnotised my retreat. 1st August 2018