She must be ninety soon. We could ask her but she knows so little English and she has so little opportunity for conversation.
She's just had one cataract operated on. They're due to do the other one in a couple of months.
The routine is, we ring her door number, she answers the intercom and is supposed to let us in. But she still doesn't know she has to push the button, after ten years living there. We are let in by the staff.
She greets us at the door and we are welcomed by a small plate of fruit each, a small orange and some grapes.
Today, accompanying the fruit, are about ten Werther's Originals.
We could ask her where they're from but she knows so little English.
In the kitchen are two large family-sized packs of Werther's Originals. I deduce they are Christmas gifts from the Care Home's petty cash. I may be wrong, maybe she's developed a taste for Werther's Originals recently. Maybe her neighbours have introduced themselves by offering her a sweet or two.
They last, do Werther's Originals. Twenty of them could keep you going all day. You wouldn't need more than one meal a day for minimum sustenance. Just suck on these little buttery toffees all day and you wouldn't feel the need to communicate with anyone. Your days would just fly.
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