We used to meet over by one particular MAPLE tree in the park. We would sit on the ground, our backs slumped against the trunk. Eager to claim our teenage power, we sneered at the children playing on the SLIDE and swings, building castles of sand, playing with dolls. We were past those childish ways, tossing our heads, hair swinging, as we smoked CLOVE cigarettes. Cocky, sexy, vibrating with vitality, we discussed what passed as adult topics: DH Lawrence, Welsh mythology, Tarot cards, the meaning of life. Deadly serious alternated with exuberance and panache, trying on first one persona and then another, as if each was a GLOVE to be tested for ease of fit. We, of course, were playing in the park in our own way, though we would have been horrified at the suggestion.

Georg’ann

Sitting in the HOTEL bar, Leah ordered a martini- not one of those festive, fruity cosmos or a James Bond one with a lemon twist. She went for pure dry alcohol complimented with a creamy blue cheese stuffed OLIVE. This and a few salted nuts gave her great pleasure. She felt confident, independent, ready for her first night totally alone after 18 years of marriage.

Idly fiddling with her GLOVE as she sat watching the bustle around her. There was no rush to be anywhere, she was unaccountable to anything but her own whim. If she thought about it too much she felt light headed, drunk on freedom more than top shelf gin. The devastating hangover she’d wake up to not yet in sight.

Heather