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  • I was 19 at that time, prowling the streets and alleys with my usual supply of hot dogs. Down in the darkness, a baker's shop window softened and warmed the night as a little girl sat under the grating.
  • Perhaps something of her angelic nature caught hold of me; I'm quite prepared to believe that I had bewitched in the beginning. I sat down beside her with a "Shove up a bit, titch." She than shoved up a bit but made no comment.
  • Shove up a bit Titch.
  • "have a hot dog," I said. However, she shook her head and replied: " It's yours". " I've got plenty. Besides, I'm full up" I said. She made no sign, so I put the bag on the grating beside us. The light from the shop was not really strong and I couldn't see what she looked like except that she was really dirty.
  • It's okay. Besides, in Full up.
  • Have a hotdog.
  • No. Its yours
  • We at there for 30 minutes or so  in complete silence , during that tie i thought i had saw a movement of her hand toward the bag , but i din't want to look or comment  in case i put her off.
  • My mom is a sickler for politeness. Besides, you don't blow smoke in a lady's face
  • *Nods*
  • Why? Do you like me?
  • Can i have a fag while you eat?
  • I took out a woodbine and lit it, offering her the match to blow. She blew, and I was sprayed with bits of hotdog.
  • After a moment or two I laughed. I suppouse that that the human mind can only take so much grief and anguish. After that, the fuses blow.
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