1. Under every camellia in the street is a pile of discarded blossoms.
2. An unpleasant lady flumphs herself down on the sofa in the middle of the gallery to have a stressy phone conversation -- 'I want to speak to a man, not a woman... I said I wanted to speak to a man.' I stop enjoying the pictures, and feel myself stiffening.
Then the museum attendant comes across the hall and tells her off: 'We don't allow phones in the gallery.'
'I'm sorry, I'm on the phone.'
'I said we don't allow phones in the gallery.'
The phone lady stomps out.
3. Watching sugar melt; and the smell of caramel in the flat.
Workshop, documentary and end.
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