Thinking about leaving a brightly-coloured badminton stadium. 'You don't know whether you're coming or going', says the lady in the brightly-coloured polo-shirt. Her hair is blonde and cut into a sensible bob. I ask if she is a badminton expert. 'I used to play it, actually', she says, 'but it's a coincidence - they just posted me here'.
I say that I've got a strange question for her. 'Oh good', she replies. I ask it. 'Mine's terrible', she says. 'It's after my aunt'. I say that I quite like it. 'At least it's not as bad as my sister's. She was named after my other aunt'. She makes a face. 'Aida', she says.
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