Body Bag

On a family outing, lunch with the wean and wife in Mao's chinese restaurant in Dún Laoghaire (surreal, naming a restaurant after a tyrant; imagine a 'Stalin's'). On the way back to our car in the largely empty underground carpark around the corner, I was arrested by this vision. Perfectly ordinary, but the protective cover had just a whiff of something sinister about it, for me anyway. Stephen King's 'Christine' comes to mind.