I am Not a Plastic Bag

Last night I raced a plastic bag home and lost.

I was running along Brecknock Road with the wind behind me when a white shape hove into view on my left, at knee height. It was a thin plastic bag, filled with air and ballooning in loops above the pavement. I believe it was from Sainsburys.

La Sainsbury was a formidable foe. She edged ahead of me a few times, taunting me with her speed and agility. Dancing hypnotically, she dashed back and forth in front of me like a chaotic metronome. I almost ran into a bollard. Turning a corner, the race got interesting. La Sainsbury dashed into my legs, wrapping herself around a shin. I tried to kick her off without breaking stride, like a can-can dancer who’d had enough. I failed. The old bag clung on, then dashed away, then lodged around my shoe.

We continued our tango for about half a mile, La Sainsbury and I, but in the end only one of us could triumph. Just before Tufnell Park tube she sailed upwards on a gust of wind ahead of me and out into the night.

I plodded home.

EDIT – a friend has pointed out that Sainsburys bags are orange. I like the way La Sainsbury sounds however, so I am letting it stand.