Traffic

The traffic was nose to tail as far as the eye could see.

It was the same way every day and Steve was sick of it. He applied the handbrake and got out of the car. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the door.

The car in front of him moved forwards approximately an inch.

The driver of the car behind Steve sounded his horn. Steve looked at him and shrugged. The driver gesticulated wildly. He wandered over to the other vehicle.

“Move forwards,” spat the man through his open window.

“Why?”

“You’re holding us up.”

Steve laughed. The other man didn’t see the funny side. “Move it,” he yelled.

Steve walked back to his own car and popped open the boot. He pulled out a cricket bat and walked back to the other vehicle.

The man’s face was full of fear as Steve repeatedly hit his windscreen with the bat. Spiderwebs formed in the glass and the cricket bat was reduced to splinters. Steve smashed the handle, or what was left of it, into the bonnet, puncturing its shiny red exterior.

Steve discarded his cigarette, returned to his car and waited for the traffic to finally start moving.