Suspicion and mild anger, my default stance on life...
This morning I awoke fresh after a fretful dream, it was 0500hrs. I was in a taxi, a London black cab, and, as I travelled along a central London street, I was aware of interference from outside. Another cab was ramming the cab in which I was a passenger. My cab came to a halt at the side of the road and I told the driver that I would be ‘having a word’ with the rogue cab driver. I jumped out and confronted him as he walked across the road from where he had parked. There followed a tirade of abuse from yours truly, plenty of use of the ‘c-word’. The man in question was a mildly eccentric character; he had shoulder length greying hair and wore a kind of white smock patterned with vertical grey lines about an inch apart. His trousers were made of the same material and he came across as belligerent, but not threatening. Just annoying. I woke up, heart racing, or rather my pulse appeared to be slightly raised. Summer light was oozing through the curtains in my bedroom and soon I was out of...