Murder, rain and rage.

15°C, rain.

Unsettling: I rode passed a murder scene on the way to work this morning. The Police had closed the road, set up a cordon and a canvas tent stood ominously over a garden. Clearly, something dreadful had happened. Read
Later: I was subject to a road rage assault from a dustbin lorry driver. Had he some upset to recover from that drove him to verbally attack me? My “offence” was trivial, I overtook his lorry climbing to Shire Oak and which put him driving two cars behind me blasting his horn and shouting. He thought I should have stayed behind him. The rest of his thoughts were a jumble of obscenities and fist waving, all incoherently thrown as he stood at a red traffic light.
I remained calm.
Perhaps he was always like that; how unfortunate.

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