Cold day, holding my coat close and waiting on the high street. She walked past and sat on a nearby park bench, long grey hair wrapped into an elegant bun and held with a carved tortoise shell comb. Her ankles were swollen and as thick as her calves. I wondered how far she had come. As she rose I heard the soft rustling sound and realised; she had lined her clothes with plastic shopping bags for warmth. Some days London made me ache.