I always hated commuter traffic.
There was always one fool, up ahead of you, holding everyone else up; some pillock who couldn’t find fourth gear, or some old granny who was convinced her Fiat Uno would fall apart if she went over forty.
I was in a foul mood this evening anyway. I’d had a shitty day, and whoever they were, they were going to get a mouthful when I finally got to the cause of this evening’s particular traffic jam.
The wall of water rose on either side of the car, but I was too busy ranting to notice.