On the train, a crazy Jamaican woman jabbered on about Christ. Salvation this and that,
Jee-suss Christ of Nahzahret'. I peered down at her open-toed sandals and saw that her toenails were painted a dull and chipping red. At some point, she, her mind aflame with fire and brimstone thoughts, must have sat and reached down to her feet to paint her nails.
I imagined her barking some scripture at me, and me shouting back, cursing her, causing a stir among the others - some sympathetic to me and some to her - and startling her into silence. But it probably wouldn't have gone that way, and in any event, it didn't.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawQaN72bKMYmkEJuRd_WTJ4a8QCV4l0VvKeUlUoqCksABB8FNCvX6onqBqLpTpzePl3TvD3HUzC3HyPCy7FtdHkhCrVRtrrEFfHMo500wAsrfLRY_0C8sCZHo5u5cUEDQN4ey/s400/DSC00283.JPG)
Illustration by Louise Asherson