Stony faced, the pensioner stared straight ahead as he drove his mobility scooter at walking speed in the exact centre of the road. Behind him, the queue of cars was backed right up to the roundabout, clogging up traffic coming from all directions. In front, vehicles were mounting the curb in an attempt to get past in the morning rush hour.
As he trundled past me at the bus stop, he patted his handlebars and said: ‘good morning’. He didn’t take his eyes off the road, he didn’t even smile.
It was like watching a butterfly flutter across a battlefield.
