She sang and danced in Starbucks. Right in the middle of the floor where people were queueing. But nobody seemed to mind. In fact, I think they found it all quite endearing.
She loved a bacon sandwich and a coke. And the mess it made.
She would stand next to mannequins in department stores, mocking their pose as if she was one of them.
The days out were routine: Coffee, a bite to eat. Wandering until tiredness crept up.
She could fall asleep anywhere. In cafes. On trains. In the car.
Years later, she still does.
Not much has changed.
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