MILK

‘Going down?’ she said.
‘Yes.’
She wore an overcoat over a red dress legs bare loose fitting shoes she shuffled into the lift the door closed behind her.
‘Is it still raining?’ she said.
‘It’s tipping down.’
‘I don’t mind the rain,’ she said. ‘I’m only going for milk.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yesterday was hot and that’s worse for me. It’s uncomfortable.’
She looked around the lift and I looked at my feet and picked fluuf off my black tee-shirt.
‘Here we are,’ I said as we landed.