like parents everywhere, i now do the "school run" and drop madeline at nursery on my way into work. as a result, i have changed my route and instead of driving on the m4 to reading like we did before my maternity leave, i take a "back route" through a couple of villages.
about three weeks ago, i noticed that some vehicle had unknowingly dribbled paint down the middle of the road for a stretch of my commute. i followed the splattered white spillage around roundabouts, through stop lights and along the winding roads for about ten miles before the driver apparently turned off and thus took his latex breadcrumbs with him.
i found the dribbles a bit hypnotizing. in the same way as you can drive home on auto-pilot, i navigated for quite some time by following the paint, which luckily was heading my direction, before i thought about what i was doing and started paying attention again.
tonight as i was heading home, i started wondering about the person driving the car that left all that mess. i picture a man...or is it three? they are sharing the front cab of a white van. they are on their way to a job, and it's early in the morning. they are grumpy, and crowded in the bench seat, wearing old dirty work clothes and already thinking about the pint of bitter they plan to have in the pub later. the driver, shattered from being out late the night before and not paying close attention, slams on the brakes to avoid running into the back of the queue of traffic outside of bracknell. in the back, the world's largest tub of housepaint skids across the floor of the van and upturns. the paint escapes, running out the door and onto the pavement below. it dribbles slowly into the street, drawing a messy line between the near-accident and the driver's destination.
what does the driver think when he sees that paint dribble now? does he drive it every day like i do?
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