The Joy of Winter

Walking to the station – right there on the pavement: wet leaf or flattened dog poo? You decide.

Walking through the arcade, peer in at Jerry’s Heel Bar – frankly, Jerry, Miss December looks like a bit of a slut.

I get on a train, just a few people standing, but it will be packed before it departs. I stand vaguely near a woman. After a fractional pause she shouts “oh for goodness’ sake!” and storms off to the next carriage.