Michael Dowse

10pm, driving, I stop at the lights. A man runs onto the road and sprays something white all over my windscreen. I can’t see, I’m freaking out. Now he’s cleaning my windscreen, why? I’m half expecting him to ask for money, but he keeps cleaning. My windscreen’s clean, he walks back to the side of the road. Confused, but grateful I give him a thumbs up, he smiles. Green light, I’m off. He’s waiting for the next red light.

Notes

1. wakameeeeeeeee liked this
2. wakameeeeeeeeeeee liked this
3. mattkennedy liked this
4. drian42 liked this
5. coconutquarter liked this
6. michaeldowse posted this