I want to talk about a van. A large black van that has annoyed the living daylights out of me for months.
One of my neighbours has a number of cars including two vans. Most of the time the family are extremely respectful of my space and they are good neighbours. Probably a lot quieter than we have been over the years. But, you've guessed it, one of the sons drives a large black van, and so many times I saw the bus struggling past it. It bugged me because no matter where it was parked it seemed to cause issues. It was big! Mrs Grumpy, I snapped and snarled to my kids about the van, even though I knew it had to park somewhere.
Last week, a police officer was on my doorstep, trying to get hold of them. The van had been found turned over. Shit, that was never going to be good news. And it wasn't. The young man's body was discovered in woods that day.
I have no idea what to say to his family, beyond "I'm sorry." I didn't speak to him beyond the odd hello, and the very occasional "You need to move your van. mate." In the end, I've spent the week parking on my paved front garden so that their numerous visitors always had a space to park. The only little thing I can offer.
The black van won't be parked outside my house again. Goodbye black van. Fuck, I'm going to miss you.