I often sit in cafes watching people of the town go by. People with shopping trolleys, wheelchairs, kids in buggies, white sticks, dogs... I drink tea at a pavement table. A woman and two small girls tuck in at the one next door. I hear the words 'that lady'. The mother turns to me and says, "My daughter just said, 'that lady looks as if she's looking for mischief.'"
his measured tap,
his eyes' twinkle
by Diana Webb
first published in Blithe Spirit, September 2007