Caboose

I was walking across to the office this morning as the gardeners were spreading out across campus to start work for the day. One of the younger guys must have been left behind, he was running to catch up with some of the others. As he ran along the road, he leaned over and dragged his machete along the tarmac.

For me the sight and sound of the young gardener sharpening his machete immediately reminded me of film of the Rwandan genocide, showing how easily perfectly normal words, sounds and actions acquire hideous new meanings. It really did send a shiver up my spine.