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The Past | The Previous

Scene from the World.

It's just before eight tonight, and I'm driving on the road, the occasional bit of traffic around me like spilled old change.

I wish I could say I was thinking about something important. World politics, Third World poverty, the illegal detention of people throughout the world... but honestly, I was thinking about a bottle of tequila that came with a red cap that was shaped into a tiny red sombrero. I can't even remember what the tequila is called, only that it came with this cap, and that for some unknown reason, this made the bottle so much more inviting than the alcohol around it. Such shallow reasoning, but then I don't really drink, so that's what I go on: odd bottles, colours, things that come with worms that soak up the liquor and taste like a foul bolt when you bite into them.

All of a sudden, my thoughts are interrupted by a ute, bursting past me. It's white, mostly, full of rust, and without any hubcaps. Hardly a unique sight. Except that in the back of the ute are hundreds of tiny loaves of bread. Those dinner rolls. In addition to these loaves of bread are yellow plastic sheets, sticking out at odd angles, but clearly not meant to cover the bread which bounces and tumbles around in the back of the ute and as he barrels past.

All I could think was I sure hope he stole that bread.