A 25-mile tail-back, three abreast.
Interviews and hospital appointments missed, kids uncollected from school, friends and loved ones arriving ungreeted from far-flung destinations.
Down the line, motorists amble, phones pressed to ears, swigging from water-bottles; up front, others watch the woman on the motorway bridge.
Concern turns to frustration… to irritation… to detached analysis.
Aren’t there easier ways? More private methods?
Without warning, mission inexplicably accomplished, the woman leaps over the railings, arms flailing until arrested by the tarmac.
People groan, covering their eyes, mouths and ears.
A lorry driver starts his engine, releasing his airbrakes with a hiss.
Loving this early start for Friday Fictioneers, but our clocks will catch up with you next week, Rochelle. This week saw the spring equinox, and I felt it in my bones. Busy pricking out seedlings, preparing the planting-out beds, ferrying plants back and forth to the greenhouse with an eye on the forecast for frosts. I love this time of the year!