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