I am a few centuries old. More than a hundred years ago, Mr Paddle luckily escaped serious injury though his horse broke its leg on my uneven surface. Mr. Henry Paddle – the Resident of this area, built this link between the east-west and north-south highway, and since then I was the Paddle Road and I was smooth as the cheek of an young maiden,
I am now called the Puddle Road.
My maintenance is now outsourced to the private agencies. They removed the base material and filled it with mud and put a coat of tar on it.
“Oh, you poor chap”, and a hand was extended to help him.
The man had to paddle to keep his head above water.
Somehow he caught the extended hand, “just help me out”.
The hand pulled him out and he heard, “You look like a drowned rat”.
The man looked for his savior but there was no body he could thank.
In spite of its deplorable state there have been no fatalities on this road.
Apparently Mr. Paddle has decided to help the victims rather then roll in his grave.