If a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step then I was already in trouble. My feet stuck to the pavement immediately outside the post office. A Mini careening madly towards me and I quickly remembered a solitary childhood scene. I realised that was my life flashing before me. It hadn’t amounted to much. And now I was going to die.
‘Don’t be so melodramatic!’ said the driver of the car as he screeched the vehicle to a sideways standstill next to me. Reaching out, his hand cut through the disorienting billows of black tyre smoke and snatched my newly acquired beatnik books. He gave them a cursory assessment and tossed them in a nearby bin.
‘I paid for those…’ I said.
‘Don’t read about it, live it! Get in!’
There were already ten people in the small car; it looked a hot, uncomfortable ride yet they remained cool. Would I be able to fit in? This was no time to procrastinate. A sharp engine rev indicated time to leave so, I grabbed the door handle.
If ever there was a chance to add another memory to my life story, this would be it.
This story continues from Back on the Road, where it will go next, nobody knows.