![]() ![]() The hands grip the trolley handle.Īnd the trolley is full. ![]() The gaze is empty, the lips hard around the cigarette, a glimpse of teeth. Her body is a lump of flesh forced inside her skin, which in turn has been crammed into the tight skirt, the tight top. Perhaps her husband beats her.īut the trolley is full. On the bare skin of her upper arms you can just make out a violet mark, bruising. Her shoes are worn down, barely covering the swollen, aching feet. She has curlers in her hair, a fag dangling from the corner of her mouth. David lifted his eyes from the desk, looking at the framed photograph of Duane Hanson’s plastic sculpture ‘Supermarket Lady’.Ī woman, obese, in a pink top and turquoise skirt, pushing a loaded shopping trolley. ![]()
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