I passed a woman in the street this evening. She was quite heavily built, in her 40s, wearing a shapeless skirt and flowery blouse with a crumpled collar. She had put down her bulging bags of shopping and was leaning wearily against a wall, with an air of complete dejection, her face hidden in the crook of her arm. I overhead her talking on the phone.
No, I can’t.
…
I just can’t!!
…
I’m covered in chocolate and stuff!
I turned back and stared.
She wasn’t.
