Mrs Windpump sported an ankle-shy dress with red-blue earrings stroking her shoulders. In addition, a stonewashed purple handbag swayed over her hips. 

First, she hunched forward and worshipped the purplish beads necklace crayoning a V between her drooping breasts. Soon she opened the solitary car’s door and squirrel in. Later, she waved her furrowed hands towards a blue-capped man. 

“Licence please!” yelled the officer. “Where’s your manners?” scolded Mrs Windpump, reciting the Fourth Commandment into the spiky-eared officer. “Here’s my licence,” she said, waving a plastic card. The officer skinned the blue cap off his throbbed-veined forehead, and squinted at her voter’s card. Luckily, the ring-necked lady reminded him of his late godmother, and he hugged her. 

Minutes later, Mrs Windpump pulled the sunflower-coloured car next to a yellow beetle. Soon her high-heels clacked the tiles, and charmed the teens snapping their necks at her 1970s’ fashion. Later, the crinkled face lady shot out of the glass door and slotted the key into a wrong car. 

Afterwards, she tossed a penny towards the trolley man, who had clogged the boot with groceries. Mrs Windpump absentmindedly massaged the fluffy puppy on the passenger’s seat, and rattled the engine. 

The car snaked out of the parking, as shop-goers whistled at the silvery hair woman steering the car like a chauffeur. Then she turned sharply into the highway. Instantly, the trained puppy buckled up and woofed at her eau-de-parfum. 

This time, the old woman’s cloudy eyes clashed with the puppy’s golden eyes and she slammed the brakes. A twin-like car pulled next to hers, and a blonde hair lady whums the window. 

The animated dog yapped after spotting the other driver. By now, the two cars had blocked the one-way, and a pile of tooting cars looked like chained toys. Mrs Windpump’s cheeks swallowed her lips and she cursed the lady’s upbringing. Luckily, the wind blew away most of her 1st World War insults. Seconds later, a smoke-spewing train snail through the tunnel and blew its horn. 

Two 18 wheels trucks driving bumper-to-bumper honked and flashed the headlights at the two women playing tug-of-war with the jingling keys. By now, a flashing blue lights van parked next to the two cars. Soon, a white-glove policeman waved at the queued up drivers shaking their heads to detour into the yawning riverbed. 

Unfortunately, the two trucks smashed into the tiny cars and cleared the road.