I made two mistakes within minutes of each other. The first one minor: a driving error. I waved, said “Sorry,” smiled out the window, and that’s when I noticed the words he was screaming. Ugliness made uglier by the depths of his rage, cartoon anger, incandescent with hate. “Let’s laugh,” said my wife. “That will teach him.” So belly laugh we did. Thought we would show him. Two women guffawing in the car behind: a rear mirror view, to teach him his blind spots. It was the moment our cars paralleled at the next roundabout, I “found-out-about” my second mistake.
Kate Simblet social works by day, plays with words by night. Lives in Brighton, loves the sea. Find Kate on Twitter @KateSimblet.