That feel-good feeling that comes with snow’s first appearance only lasts for about two days (a week at most). Over a few nights, that fluffy and soft snow turns into compacted ice that’s as hard as concrete and is so slippery, one might as well ditch the ski boots, wellies, magic shoe socks, etc. and put on some skis.
It took me almost 10 minutes to climb up this slope this morning whereas normally, it would have taken me half a minute. Stepping on icy footpaths or anywhere there was ice on the road would have been lethal. I had this image repeated in my mind where I took a wrong step and fell, hitting my head on the kerb, cracking my skull open with my brains oozing out like grey egg yolk. So, I treaded carefully on the thin strips of visible tarmac that were left behind by cars over the past few days. The fact that one might come along and accidentally hit me from behind was completely ignored. The fear of oozing brains was all it took for me to stay the course and stay on the road, car or no car.
As I sat on the bus this morning, I contemplated whether it was time to get back on the Vespa. But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, flashing images of oozing brains started to re-appear and any thought of getting even close to my Vespa was quickly brushed aside.
About an hour or so later, I was in the city centre. I thanked the driver as I stepped out of the bus and as I turned around to cross the street behind me, there it was – a rider sitting smugly on his cream coloured Vespa PX whizzing past me as if he was riding on the coastal roads of the Italian Riviera whereas I was the fool that was stuck in some sort of personal Arctic dimension, complete with cartoonish hovering grey cloud above me. It didn’t make sense but after seeing that, the flashing images of oozing brains slowly melted away...
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