Upwey on a winters evening

Waiting outside the Upwey supermarket for my son to come back from the city, a 57-minute journey in the dark. It’s a big journey for a shy and gentle 16-year-old. Waiting in the cold.

Suddenly, an electric SUV stops at the pedestrian crossing and the car following behind, an older red Corolla, slams on the brakes and beeps.

It felt aggressive and unnecessary.

I looked at the SUV and then at the car. After all, I was waiting in the dark. Nothing else to do.

The male driver of the red car wound down his passenger-side window and shouted, “Don’t look at me, I don’t give a fuck! Anyway, I’m on my way to commit suicide.”

“Please don’t,” I yelled back.

As he drove off, I noticed that the airbags had exploded and the white bags were hanging over the dashboard like spent parachutes.

The red Corolla sped through Upwey village, with the man shouting, “Fuck off!” at anyone making the vaguest eye contact. Some blokes with their Friday pizzas cheerfully shouted back.

I waited for my son.