Waking early, he groaned inwardly, he hated Sundays. Sundays always meandered, everything went late, still, shut or slow.

And as usual, his larder was empty, he needed to go shopping. A trip to the local supermarket was always a trial, but on a Sunday! Phew! No thanks!

For a start, they never opened til ten, hours to go. And then, the crowds, the Sunday shopping crowds, they did his fragile head in no end.

Dragging around the kitchen in his pajamas, he searched the cupboards again. Still nothing. Just ¾ bottle of home-brand red, a mouthful of brandy and four hash truffles he’d bought for his birthday, but hadn’t yet found anybody to share them with. He poured the Brandy into the wine, took one hash truffle and went back to bed.

Perhaps he could get back to sleep til the shops opened.

Within an hour the munchies had driven him back to the kitchen. Rummaging through the empty cupboards. In blood-sugar free-fall he scoffed another of the hash truffles.

Then another

Sugar sugar sugar!

Then he scoffed the last one, went back to bed.

On a whim, he climbed out of bed, put on his coat and shoes, he decided to walk the streets till the shops opened. He was munchie-ravenous, but maybe a walk would help.

At the Pelican Crossing at the end of his street, he pushed the button and waited. Slow tailbacks of Sunday drivers clogged the road, inching in both lanes of the Ring Road, into and out of the city. He waited.

Slowly at first, then with increasing urgency his attention was drawn into a big blue SUV stopped at the lights. The car seems implausibly big, large and it began to fill his vision with its impenetrable blueness. He felt he was falling into it, into a midnight blue night sky. It took a huge effort of will to pull his eyes away from the overarching hugeness of the SUV’s blue bonnet. He dragged his eyes upwards towards the windscreen. There was a woman at the steering wheel, she had an implausibly huge head, a huge blue head.

The crossing lights changed to green, but he stayed, entranced by the blue headed woman, trying not to stare.

The lights changed back.

He waited, transfixed in ignoring blue.

With deliberate dispassionate curiosity he allowed his attention to focus on the woman’s huge blue head, and decided it was the woman’s hair that was blue, the same blue as the car. Quickly he closed his eyes. Too much. He switched his eyes to the pelican crossing lights, he waited.

The Lights changed, the green walking-man blinked. Repeatedly tearing himself away from the blue vision machine, he stepped into the road. Halfway across the lights changed “Don’t Cross” screamed in his ears and he beat a hasty retreat back to the kerb. He suddenly felt he was trapped, like in the Pink Panther Cartoon – Think Before You Pink! He thinks the Blue Lady in the blue car with blue punky hair glared at him, telepathically. He suspects she has an animosity towards pink and in particular  the Pink Panther, her being so blue and all.

But it meant he was psychologically prepared when the green-man lit up again. He skipped into the road

“dudum dudum dudumdudum dudum dudum dudum duduuummm“.

Halfway across the lights changed, green man extinguished. But he didn’t get mown down like the Pink Panther because the ring road traffic was gridlocked and nothing moved.

He slid into the supermarket.

By now he was swimming in a sugar-philic haze, the cakes in the supermarket bakery seemed sentient, calling out to him. Perhaps latching onto the munchie-mania that seemed to surround him, like a famished aura.

In the street again, trudging with 5p carrier bags stuffed with red warning label sugar, fat , carbohydrate snacks, he crossed the Pelican crossing without pushing the button or waiting for the green man, he just stepped into the road.

But he didn’t get mown down because the ring road traffic was gridlocked and nothing moved. The blue SUV with the woman with matching blue head is still there. But the car now is kind of green-ish and the woman is wearing a hat, a huge silly green hat.

Still waiting, still gridlocked, still Sunday.

He hated Sundays.