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sitting against a brick wall, clothed with

a large black raincoat, which was good

because Sam could feel that it had

started to rain, with a splatter of the

drops flickering onto his face. The old

man also had a small damp, dark grey

mongrel lying beside him with drops

from the rain quickly running down

onto and off the tip of its nose.

He crouched down in front of the man

and offered him the still sealed packet

of salt and vinegar crisps that he had

put into his left side jacket pocket

before he had got onto the bus but had

completely forgotten about due to his

thoughts of Anouska.

“Thank you,” said the old man, who

took it, opened the packet and quickly