The farmer leaned against the gate chuckling to his own private joke.
Cars hurtled passed frantically on the road outside, commuters struggling to cope with the annual theft. They would arrive at work dishevelled and lost. It would take them days to recover from the shock of the ordeal.
Mothers would drag their children to school, bleary-eyed, and with a bad case of bed-head. Their brains would be working on remote control.
He could barely contain his amusement.
Summer or winter, he’d rise to the sound of his cock crowing, and work until dusk. Daylight saving! Who were they kidding?