you can't stop beauty

In the midst of destruction, still a flower is blooming.

God he made my day!

I was sitting drinking a coffee under the veranda in the train station watching the passers by passing by. Watching all the blacks, and greys, and browns and beiges cross the street, get onto buses, shout abuse to hurried car drivers and spit the night's fag slime onto the pavement. When a distinguished man in a red béret and a red coat lined with red fur walked past. He was talking to another man walking beside him, when my red coat caught his eye and, between two words, he found the time to wink.

...and she wasn't a member of the staff

Sunday afternoon. A warm day outside. Picasso inside. And a woman sitting in the basement of the Art Gallery knitting a pair of socks.