Dear indicator-free driver,
I would like to devote some words of love to your unique figure.
Indicator-free driver, the one whose destiny is unknown for everyone but themselves. The one who decides the path just by turning the steering wheel. The one who drives so well that indicating manoeuvres is defined as a nonsense for them. You drive wildly, as wildly you were born and wild you will be. Few times you were seen in roundabouts due to the speed of your car. Because speed is the only word you know and indicator is just another one you don’t.
My careless fellow. Honest between the honest. You don’t know where you are going and your indicator proves it. And if by any chance the indicator is triggered, you make sure you select the opposite direction you are heading.
Free creature of the road, you own a house, a car and all the paths where your car can go. You are the only thing that matters when your car slides through the highway. Because your car is your living room. A place for resting, eating and checking Facebook. But only, of course, if the engine is on.
You were taught in how to use it, but you quickly learnt to avoid it. You are concern about light pollution and that’s your first priority. You know so well that people is dying due to some heartless individuals who only think in indicating and indicating. You are the only one who knows the real truth.
But first of all, unlit chauffeur, do as Gandalf the grey told you. Don’t let them pass, or you will be force to increase speed in a way that you only know. With lack of indications. In countless occasions, I asked myself how anybody can even think about the idea of passing you, knowing that you are competing to be in the next Grand Prix. Nobody understands you, although you don’t need to be understood.
I will be looking forward to seeing you again in the road, my dear mate. You have been an inspiration for me. Without your no indications, I could never have written anything like this.
The driver behind.