The old lady next door, let's say her name is Mrs Holy.
She's very old, terribly old I'd dare to say. She's already entered those years when age becomes a terrible matter. I don't think Mrs Holy's head is alright. I mean, she can walk, and talk, and it's polite as British can be. But she's terribly old, you know.
My house, number 7, let's say Mornington Street, has four doors. But I think we two are the only dwellers here most of the time. She's old and I am unemployed.
She's been coming upstairs knocking at my door for the last month or so. Always asking for matches. I don't know what she exactly does with them, as a matter of fact it's hardly a week since I give her a matchbox, and here she comes again.
It's been like that the last three times. Until that day I told Mrs Holy I didn't have any matches left. In fact I don't even use matches, I have automatic gas hobs, you know, the kind that doesn't require any match.
That's what I told her last time. I had to explain Mrs Holy the reason why I don't use matches. She seemed to understand. And there she was the very next morning, at my doorstep, with a big matchbox. She couldn't light them up because they were wet. So I had to show her how you can light a wet match by pulling strongly. She listened carefully.
I thought that was going to be the last time she came by, until this mornig.
- ¿Can you get me some toilet roll and matches?
- I don’t have any matches left, I don’t use them.
- No, I want you to get me some toilet roll and matches (she had a coin in her hand, a Pound, and she waved it, somehow pointing the nearby supermarket)
- But I don’t have matches, I don’t use them.
- Oh, you don’t use them. But I want you to get me some toilet roll and matches.
- Wait, I can give you some toilet roll…(I go to the toilet and get her a couple of toilet rolls, by the time I'm back she has already sneaked inside and curiously scans everything)
- Oh, thank you (shaking the toilet rolls in her hands)…but don’t you have any matches?
- No, I don’t use them. My kitchen has an automatic spark.
- What a pity, thank you very much.