Gargantua

I am at Reading station awaiting a delayed train

Mercifully there is a breeze on this, the hottest day of the year.  I have managed to find a seat on a bench  I am learning to watch the occupants like hawks to spot signs of the slightest movment  like a Buzzard mounted on a telegraph pole. The slightest twitch and I am in position smiling hopefully at the moving one, only they can’t see that under my 2 protective masks (old habits die hard)   Then plonking myself down.

Sitting here typing with young girls all around me in summery, long skirts and tops. All sleeveless, tatoos on rippling flesh bursting out of the arm holes. Sorry to say but I am astonished at the general corpulence of the young, female population of the UK, particularly outside side London.

They are vast beyond belief but this does seem to stop them from displaying flesh at  every opportunity. Great flabby arms hanging out of sleeveless tops. Bottoms and things hanging over the GWR waiting seats on platforms

When they eat, (and they do often but then,  so do I when waiting for trains and if there is a cafe handy) they have to lower their masks briefly to stuff in another portion of high calorie food. 

It reminds me of a time in Jordan at Ashtar Ma’in Springs in the hotel near the Dead Sea.

A family were dining at the next table to us, the Wife in full Niqab, only eyes visible.   I wondered how she might eat when food came to their table but then saw a flap twitching like a  heavy black, net curtain as it briefly parted and the laden fork passed in.

We are all eating like that now.  All over public places people

furtively lowering their masks and shovelling food in…..