Mirror, mirror, on the road. Who is the fairest of them all? A question that some around here in Suffolk may be angry about being asked. The reason it springs to mind is that I'm beginning to suspect I live in vampire country.
What is your evidence, I imagine I hear you yelling from your part of the blogsphere. Is it the handy heart-stake pieces of tree that are being blown to the ground? Is it the curious lack of blood from the road kill that the zombies haven't squashed yet? Or is it the broken mirrors?
One mirror might lead to a baffled question from me, but mirrors? (Bear with me, I'm still imaging you yelling at the screen.)
Yep. Mirrors. At least five of them over the last week. Car mirrors. The sort that are usually found on the wing of a car, rather than on the side of road in narrow lanes where a person might reasonably suspect that the car owner has been playing at zombies and had to frantically clip a hedge instead of braking to avoid a collision.
But I disagree.
The more plausible explanation to my mind is that the vampires around here are disgruntled with not being able to check for shaving foam or attend to their make-up as they go to work – as I sometimes believe a number of the local zombies indulge in, to explain their driving – and have ripped off the offending mirrors and smashed them on the road. Sounds logical to me.
On the other hand, I may have been thinking too much on this morning's ride ...
Don't do stupid – it's just not clever.