Ken

Opening my front door in my jogging attire, I notice a small Chinese lady hovering next to me.  'I live here', she says.  She has a neatly cropped boyish haircut in grey and is carrying two plastic bags from the Chinese supermarket.  'It's very stiff', she says gesturing to the lock.  I agree.  I ask how long she has lived here.  She tells me that she has been here for about a month.  I ask if she likes it.  'Not particularly', she replies.  Her Chinese accent is strong.

When I ask her name she tells me that her husband's name is 'Chen'.  On second asking she gives me hers.  'And your middle name?' I ask.  She gives me an answer without questioning my motive.  We agree that it has been nice to meet each other and I leave her at the bottom of the stairs.