Roadhogs, magpies, barking dogs - an acute attack of the little things
Small things are beginning to bother me. I know small things are not worth getting bothered about, but I can't help it - and I'm paying the price. On comes a young lad with spots, driving a car older than himself, with his little spikey head barely sticking up over the dash and his cracked speedlust eyes seeing only chicanes and pit stops.
He revs up and destroys half a hectare of the ozone layer. I brake and flash the lights. He gives me the two fingers.
I turn the car around and decide to pursue the cheeky boy, who is probably named Spike because of his mangy hedgehog head.