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road rage


He’s in the inside lane, waiting to move to the outside lane because the presence of a parked police car, lights flashing, demands it.

He waits for a gap, a wave in, a gesture – nothing – so a little nose-nudge into a small gap in front of a burgundy-coloured vehicle.

Which bleats a chorus of enraged hornery then rumbles right up close – open window to open window. Two people are inside. One man and one woman. You’re in America.

Both look over and glower with suppressed intent. The driver drapes his massive, discoloured forearm over the window ledge, raises his index finger and presents it in the accepted way ..


‘What’s it like to be a fuckwit, clown?


The recipient of the insult gazes into the eyes of his enraged neighbour for a moment, then responds.

‘You should ask your girlfriend, she’s known you longer than I have.’

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