If No One Helps

Source::
Bella Caledonia
If No One Helps

Somewhere on the Highlands route between Edinburgh and my hard to heat but hard to hate little crooked house a few crooked miles from Beauly, a lane-changing white van, conforming to the stereotype, bobbed in and out of my rear view mirror as it threaded through the competition, flashing headlights to eliminate the endless enemy: the cars in front. At a point where the long skinny stretch suddenly swells to allow three lane traffic, the van roared past me, but…

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Bella Caledonia
If No One Helps