Tales from the hard shoulder

Try as he might the weight of thought crushed him. He had no ideas. He had been sat in his car for 45 minutes trying to think about something to think about to make him look a little bit less of a lost soul. Some ideas that struck him felt ok but he needed something with legs. As swirling thoughts moved inconclusively around is misshapen skull a sentence crystallized in his vision. "U2 are really rubbish? As if from no where these words stepped up and decided they were the way to deal with everything. They would soon become his mantra.

Just as this moment of clarity set minds blazing, an asteroid flew past the passenger side window of the car, which just happened to be double parked on the busier side of the street, only to burst into every shade of red ever conceived by rich and powerful street sleepers.

The moment was lost to all but a blue butterfly that just managed to peep over the top of a petal and see the red disappear into itself in a beautiful swirl that would be lost forever.