Outside Starbucks

A schlep of young boys splayed across the pavement, sloping along in converse hi-tops and baggy jeans. Laughing, drinking bottled coke - young teenagers excited to be out of school but trying to play it cool.

A sightseeing bus is empty apart from a lone woman with a video camera making one of those long jerky films of a foreign city's streets which is unlikely to be watched by anyone.

My face reflected against the street outside. Unused to my own reflection. I don't feel I look like myself. Glasses throw dark shadows across my cheeks and under my nose. My mouth turns down, which I don't remember.

Inside, a coffee cup is lifted and for a moment its reflection looks like it belongs to the cab driver sitting in traffic on the street outside.