The Little Things of Lockdown
There was a moment this week when I was driving back south to Bristol after a sudden emergency I had to rush home for, when the heavens opened and it started pouring with rain. The sky seemed endlessly grey overhead and spray from the car in front of me was splattering my windscreen, and I was incredibly thankful that I had listened to my dad that morning and stopped at Halfords in Lincoln to get my windscreen wiper replaced before I properly set off on my road trip back south. The rain started coming down really heavily, so loud that I had to turn the volume up even louder to be able to hear Stephen Fry's voice narrating to me Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I was on what I see as the final home stretch, those last 45 or so miles down the M5 before I get back to my house in Bristol. And the rain was relentlessly heavy and every few miles or so I would drive under a bridge and everything stopped. For a few brief seconds everything went silent, (except Stephen Fry of course who...