Tuesday, July 22, 2003

Watty's been feeling a bit odd all day:

I mean, it's not every day you pass a dead body on your way to work, is it? Just a mundane traffic accident, in truth; a large Land Rover-type vehicle parked perpendicular to the road, front end in a hedge, two police cars, and an ambulance. I sat in a short queue behind it all, idly wondering what had happened, then the line of cars moved, and we crawled past the scene; the usual group of onlookers milling around and paramedics and police officers doing what they do in those situations. As I pass the Land Rover, I realise that there is someone lying in the road, and that they are covered up, with no one paying particular attention to them. I am past before I realise the implications of this, and it's sat uneasily in my subconscious for the rest of the day. On the way home tonight, I see a Police sign appealing for information, and a forlorn bunch of flowers on the verge.

And however much it's bothered me today, it's nothing compared to what those involved are going through tonight. I have no way of knowing who they are, but nevertheless, I spare them a thought as I sit here listening to my radio, and getting on with my life.

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