She felt goosepimples rising across her tightly crossed arms. Her nervous, embarrassed compulsion to cover herself as much as possible. Yet, the fire ...rom the barrel bathed her in waves of blistering heat. Its forked spew of flickering yellow and orange light casting away the shadows of all the figures surrounding her and it. Casting away the sparks and ashes of all she had left to own in this world. There, into that rusted old oil drum, had she deposited the very clothes from her back… right. Curly greying hair, she was a good foot and a half shorter than me. She was also quite chubby, with a large rear, big breasts. It started with a smile, then I said “Hi” and then we started chatting on the bus. She introduced herself, Bella, told me that she used to be teacher, that she was living alone after her husband left her for a younger women. She was in her late sixties and her new home had a list of things wrong with it. I told her that I worked as a handyman and asked if there was. More

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