Directive

She sat in her car, not wanting to go home.

Although the young woman had left the office later than usual, she had barely got halfway across town, when she pulled over. Now, she was running through the familiar and predictable upcoming events in her head. They had all happened before; many times. It didn’t matter that she was running late. She could sit here for as long as she liked. She’d be home long before him. It was his so-called darts-team night. He’d go straight to the pub and start drinking from the moment he arrived. He will play darts and drink for an hour or so, then come home drunk, he’d start an argument, and he’d get angry…

With a jolt, it came to her that she’d been sitting there for an age, when the blue flashing light in her rear vision mirror brought her out of her unhappy reverie. She watched as a policeman climbed out of the vehicle and slowly walked towards her. He walked a short distance past and pointed up at a no standing sign right in front of her, then strolled back and leaned in.

“Sorry Miss, you need to move on.”

She looked up smiling. “Yes, of course,” she said, and quickly pulled out into the main road.

She was still smiling when she whispered to herself, “What a good idea!”

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