London

you smell distinct: dried blood, stale beer, dirty clothes your liver gripes and pushes it out through your pores.

I just popped into a cafe for a cuppa to escape the rain last week...and this happened inside my brain. It's a bit of an experiment and still messy round the edges.

She sits in the Standard High Backed Chair; Adjustable - Without Wings. She's an old bird now, and there'll be no more flying the clipping of the years has seen to that she'll never be no sweetheart in a ball gown