Monday 16th July


A woman walks in like a rainbow car crash carrying a bolt of
vivid pink cloth. She’s so big she struggles to get in through
the door of the tube train, hitting people as she passes with
all her stuff. Finding a seat she flops down sipping something
sweet from a plastic bottle like a hungry baby, a baby animal,
a giant hamster licking water from a tube. Wiping her lips with
the back of her hand she dries the rim of the bottle with her fingers
in a speedy little sequence that looks habitual. Throwing the bottle
down she looks around to see who’s watching, scooping it out of sight
with practised feet.