And then we have Mr and Mrs Able, who aren’t able to do anything the same; she is sitting and he is standing, though there’s an extra seat free. She wears a head scarf, he goes hatless. She sits with her legs neatly together, while he tries to dominate the carriage with his crotch. But they both wear the uniform of the émigré middle-class – not black, but shades of brown, green and grey. Despite all of this, she loves him dearly and willingly listens to how, say, that day he had to fire somebody.
Mr and Mrs Able
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