Outside fat women struggle up the hill —bright red cardigans, overprinted dresses, handbags ruthlessly under the arm. Occasionally, a thin version lopes down pulling a shopping basket.
What do they do down there that results in such an increase in size and weight?
Sometimes two meet. They both look down the hill. From a high window, through net curtains, you can see the lip and hand movements.
Perhaps nothing happens down the hill. Perhaps it’s pure coincidence that, when I glance out, I always see fat women walk up and thin walk down.
Ooh, look! There goes Concorde again!
There Goes Concorde Again
…and the Native Hipsters