Saturday 25 April 2009

 

New Scarf

A woman and her grand daughter sit on the train with their feet hidden by bags of shopping. The woman is rugged and grey, likely in her sixties and showing it. But she does so with a dignity. Her hair is short, a couple of inches thick, a dirty ash grey. She wears smart black shoes, and grey dress suit jacket, with a striped grey and pink top visible in a V beneath. The girl has shoulder length brown hair, a black zip up top, puffy combat shorts and black tights. The girls pulls a shawl style scarf from one of the brown paper clothes bags, folds it in a triangle and drapes it and ties it round her neck. She smiles a little, restraining the sense of pleasure she has. She glances at her grand mother, in a look at me fashion, the old woman laughs, looks away in a get her fashion. The girls whips it off, suddenly embarrassed, balls it up. Then, she changes her mind, ties it again this time taking more care. Adjusting it, preening, making sure it doesn’t choke her. This time, she sits, composed, her legs crossed, that little smile, as though she were royalty.

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