Cycle and carriage

Upper Thomson Road, 10 km. I cycle to a friend's house to collect some cookies. It's a short ride but I almost end up in the undercarriage of a terrible taxi tyrant who suddenly switches lane. "Oi oi oi!" I yell and brake. The driver must've heard me; he certainly didn't see me. He stops and waves me on. Perhaps he's suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning; his window is down. Shaken, I wobble on my bicycle and a driver in the next lane is alarmed enough to pause. It is drizzling. I arrive at my destination, collect chunky cookies, chat a bit and cycle home. I ride on the pavement for a while - no cars, no pedestrians. Just trees that offer some protection from the drizzle. And from undercarriages and undertakers. As for the home-baked cookies, which I first saw on a blog, yummy. I guess they'd taste even better when fresh from oven instead of air flown thousands of km.