Yellow Peril

A lady totters down Brompton Road. Her skirt is pale, lemon yellow cotton, her top is a warm golden yellow and crocheted. Her shoes are pewter and so high she is struggling to walk. Her legs are a funny colour – too much fake tan – and they clash with her skirt. Her arms, on the other hand, are corpse-like in their whiteness. She looks unwell. And strange. I wonder if she has far to walk, and hope, for her sake, she has not.