Andrew L. Urban
There is chaos on the political roads, cars driving erratically, dangerously, like a bunch of teenagers in their dads’ cars. Then we hear a car horn blaring as it enters the round-about, in a loud warning to other drivers. Ironically, the honking car, rego PHON 111, displays P plates.
The elite police chase the vehicle in an effort to arrest its progress. Does the driver have the proper licence, they want to know. Bystanders yell and shake their fists. The car speeds up. As other cars join the chase, there are bumps and collisions, drivers swap places, some drivers are even ejected and the whole caravan begins hooting and hollering. But PHON 111 just keeps going.
Bystanders, many of whom once yelled at PHON111, now join the caravan in its wake, pushing police out of the way, some waving P plate flags.
The cars which prompted the initial honking and caused all the fuss are still going round and round on the round-about, their GPS all confused, the sound of that warning honking still ringing in their ears. And in their heads.
The intrusion of the P plater makes many of the drivers quite agitated, sometimes plain rude and offensive. The road ahead remains wide open, PHON111 leading the caravan, side-swiping parked cars and picking up hitchhikers. It’s a helluva ride. Perhaps a Phenomenon … with a P.
Further up the road is the first of a couple of sets of traffic lights. PHON111 keeps barrelling towards it. No-one knows whether it will be red or green when PHON111 reaches it … or the bigger second set further on.