There are moments where time seems to lag, as if the normal sixty seconds per minute rule no longer applies. Sometimes this is a blissful thing – there are those moments which you wish never cease. That sense where all is as close as we will ever find to perfection. At other times, one feels helpless in the midst of the tyranny of the drawn out moment. Waiting for a dreaded event. Or watching an unattended car slowly roll through a car park. Last Friday I, along with a couple of other curious shoppers, watched a dark grey commodore decide that the other side of the car park was more interesting, while its hapless owner presumably shopped nearby. Slowly the car ambled. Straight for a line of cars on the furthest side of the car park. I could not tear my eyes away, powerless, fascinated. Wondering how big a bang. Surprisingly for the bulk of the vehicle, the sickening crunch was far less dominating on the soundscape than anticipated. The handbrakes of the victims held. I decided that I may need to wander over to be sure that there wasn’t someone slumped in the seat of the car, but firstly took a cursory glance at the recently vacated parking space. Sure enough, there was a middle-aged man wearing a perplexed expression, staring at the empty space and its neighbours, clutching an Age newspaper. I called over to him, inviting him to identify the grey cruiser. The look of horror on his face was priceless.