This is a tiny matchbox sports car, hiding in the half shadows, waiting for a bare and unsuspecting foot to tread on it. The only thing that hurts more is a lego block.

When I am at the supermarket (and failing to resist the lure of the chocolate aisle), I have noticed that matchbox cars seem to be having a renaissance: they are beautifully designed and coloured. They are perfect mini sculptures and some are sort-of beautiful. They appear to exercise a magnetic pull on middle-aged men.

“Do not tread on me.”

… aaand I may have bought a ute.