Rain

I’m standing with my back to the Europe Bar & Grill, a Macedonian restaurant whose white-hatted chef has a magnificent moustache. The waitress, Elena, wears something approaching an Eastern European airline uniform from the 1970s, complete with militaristic cap. I’ve never been brave enough to ask them for a photo, especially since they know we go to the place next door.

So tonight it’s the hair salon opposite.