Frills

Taking the escalator out of the metro today, I noticed a woman standing in front of me carrying the frilliest, laciest handbag I have ever seen. It was less like a bag and more like a piece of lingerie.

In the lift up to my office, a man in his 50s stood in front of me. Despite the fact that he had obviously shaved this morning, a line of white hairs ran down one side of his neck, from earlobe to collar. The hairs were long enough to suggest that he has managed to miss shaving this particular strip of skin every morning for several weeks. As he turned to wish me ‘Bon journée” before leaving the lift, I noticed another line of unshaved hair just under his bottom lip.