I was fascinated by her – her wrinkles, her coloured socks and her warm hat. I wanted more information on her; I had a sudden hot urge to know her whole family history. I sat next to her on the pretext of waiting for a friend to try a pair of shoes on.
I waited, and I waited and I shot quick glances at her, drinking in her appearance, her persona… her atmosphere. I sat there for for nearly 15 minutes, practising what I was going to say to her – “Hi, how old are you?’But then that just sounded rude. Maybe, “Hi, how are you?’ or perhaps, “Hi, howmany kids do you have?” or “Who bought you those socks?”
In the end I smiled at her and she walked away.
But that was okay.
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple, With a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me, And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves, And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter. Jenny Joseph