In the super market, an old man, collects two or three items from the shelves and puts them straight into a plastic bag, instead of one of the baskets provided. At the check-out he places his purchases on the conveyor and shows the check-out girl that his bag is empty, before, as she registers them on her cash machine, he replaces them in the bag.
Where yesterday's jubilee party was held the bunting is still up criss-crossing the street. It chatters in the wind. A bleak sound like rain falling on a roof top.