I worked in Bradford
I drove back home along Bradfords crazy roads among the crazy drivers
Each day
At the same time
In the same place
I saw this man
No idea of his name
Or his story
But each day he ran
Holding two carrier bags
Full of carrier bags
Down the central reservation of the ring road
And as I drove home
Tired and weary from my days work
I would think to myself
Who covers for this guy when he's off sick?
He's running with more purpose than I do when I'm going to work
But he's here every day
Punctual
Is there a supply agency for running with bags?
I think it's a vocation.
Then I drove into the car in front of me