The Unstoppable Veteran.

I saw him crossing the road at a red light on Nevisky prospect, he must have been a veteran of the Great Patroitc war. He was wearing more medals then a regiment of Horse Guards, and grasped between two hardened knuckles, on aged gorilla arms were an armoury of Carrier bags. He was with an equally impressive gentlemen armed to the teeth with rolls of bedding, dressed in an oversized navy uniform, which must have fit when they were both Russia's finest fighting men.

I noticed him because he crossed at the red, directly into swerving, Mercedes and BWMs, absuivley honking "Get back" from their horns. I winced in thought of the inevitable and I wasn't the only one, his companion had tried to pull him back and a young lady had made a brief dash in front of me to try and restrain him. But he was unrestrainable and unconquerable, indefatigable, he shrugged them both off and marched on. We shouldn't have been worried, this hero of the war, who had survived German bullets knew German cars couldn't stop him. He made slow progress never looking left or right only, forward, forward, on, on. When he reached the opposite side he pulled a 180 pivot turn, dropped his bags, harrumphed up his shoulders and mocked us all in jocular Russian. I couldn't understand it but I knew what it meant 

"Hey, what are you waiting for."

We all laughed, everyone, languishing on the other side.