At the news agent’s a woman in her forties spoke to me, said she had
lived in Algarve for two years, from Romania, used to be a doctor, but
here she could only get a job as a cleaning lady. I dislike being spoken
to by people I don’t know; perhaps I seem avuncular and reliable.
I commiserated with her plight and began walking away, but I can’t out
walk anyone, she followed, said she was looking for a friend in this cold,
cruel world. It occurred to me, since she was lonely, had become a little
unhinged. Men tend to drink too much when alone, women fantasize
about true romance, for both it is often a one way road to oblivion.
I was waiting for my wife, she had been to the bank, when she showed
up, the other woman shrunk off, but my wife wanted to know who that
woman was, like I should know. No one should be so alone, they accost
strangers in the street, it is sad and scary for those spoken to. Loneliness
is a curse and can make people mad.