I’ve just been chatting with Kim on iChat on the train on the way home from work. She told me that a little boy got hit by a car by the park at the end of our close. The park that Jack spends so much time in. The car was driving too fast, hit the boy, and didn’t stop. A neighbour got a description of the car and the last few letters of the number plate. I feel sick. Worse than sick. Can you imagine how I feel? If you’re a parent, then probably.
Speed is not an uncommon problem in Danescourt, even though it’s a quiet estate on the outskirts of Cardiff. What the fuck is wrong with people? Slow down in residential areas. Is it worth the thrill of driving at 40mph instead of 29mph? Oooh – fucking exciting. Morons.
People complain about speed bumps and speed cameras. I want speed bumps and speed cameras on the road around Danescourt. If people aren’t sensible enough to slow down when driving in a built up area around a playground and a primary school, then you need to be told. Forced. I knew this was going to happen. Kids are unpredictable – you need to watch out for them.
The boy sounds like he was “OK”. Police and an ambulance took him to hospital with some injuries to his leg or legs. I have no details though. How bad are his injuries? There are consequences of severe trauma.
I’m so pissed off. 10 people a day die on the roads in Britain (random statistic, I know – I’ll reference when I get a chance), most commonly due to speeding. I’ll admit that I don’t adhere strictly to the motorway speed limit, but I’m not excessive (usually no more than 80mph), and I certainly keep it slow in built up areas. We’re all just trying to get from A to B, and then back to B again, alive.
