Du pain

I drove the two miles or so to the boulangerie this morning, to get bread. The route is a very hilly, twisty, mostly tree-lined, narrow country road. I bought two french loaves, and placed them, in their long, thin paper bag, on the Landrover dashboard. It was a nice morning, so driving back I had my window open to make the most of the cool air. As I went around a bend the bread flew off the dashboard and shot out of the window.

Swearing (in French, naturally) I stopped, and got out of the car to see if there was anything salvageable left. I couldn't see it anywhere - not a crumb. I looked all along the verge, in the ditch, even under the car. I was just about to give up, when I caught sight of my pains - still in their bag - nestled safely and securely in a bush.
Flying bread

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