Stop, look, listen Pt. II
My brother's approach.

Running late, as was all too often the case, we made our way homeward and had naught but a busy road to clear before we were able to run unencumbered all the way back to my Dad's front door. Dad wouldn't bollock us for tardiness, but we'd go hungry if we didn't hurry, so hurry we did.

"This is my approach to crossing the road" stupidly boasted the younger sibling, before sprinting directly into the path of an oncoming car.

Time seemed to slow almost to the point of stopping as the car struck his trailing leg and sent him spinning into the curb. A single shoe made a sky bound bid for freedom, before gently returning with too loud a bang on the roof of the next car.

The young driver was in a terrible state; I suppose the last thing you want on your first voyage after passing your driving test is a mindless young boy throwing himself under your wheels. Her Mum took the controls for the remainder of that journey, and I sometimes wonder whether the new driver ever took them back again.
( Moey, Mon 16 Feb 2009, 13:19, Reply)