February 13th – Unlucky for some, it was not a great day for me; I was at work far too late, and I stubbornly remained long after I was any use. Tired, mentally exhausted, I came back from Darlaston in a miserable fug; I’d mislaid something and spent an hour looking, which was bothering me. There was a steady, eroding drizzle and a slow puncture was dogging my progress. Hunger was also on my shoulders.

I rode somnambulently into Caldmore for indian snacks to take home. My usual store of choice was long since closed, but another nearby was open, and I hungrily chose vegetable kebabs, samosa, spinach paneer bhajis and pakora. The sauce was bravely supplied in a plastic bag, which I popped unopened in my travel mug. I wasn’t too fuzzy to risk a saddlebag full of goop, no matter how tasty.

I was still knackered, but I felt brighter. There was food in my saddlebag, and the rain was easing. Maybe I could make it home without stopping to pump up the tyre again…

Author: BrownhillsBob

I told the truth - but told it bent. Wandering around bemused and ranty since 2007. View all posts by BrownhillsBob