It is raining. Just the kind of weather to sell Double Glazing.
Or sell anything. From office space to land rights; stakes in your future; better pensions, for bigger bucks; next better tasting pizza topping.
Tottering on heels across the company car park it seems that Alison has brought the sunlight with her.
Let’s be clear, this is where she works. And often bends over backwards just to please herself.
I am smoking a cigarette.
“Enjoying that, David?”
“While I’ve been waiting for you.”
“And think that you know me, Mister Writer….?”
“Not clearly, Alison.”
“… ‘Bend over backwards just to please herself’?”
“Not one of my better lines, I avow.”
“You included it, anyway.”
“Didn’t have a better….”
“Forget it, David.”
She brushes past as though I wasn’t there. And bends over backwards. I thought, give Alison a gun to kill us all; but how many women go postal? Women in the Bible? How many? Good Shakespearean roles? Comparatively speaking? Behave.
Where would we be without women…? begin again.