Cornwall. 12th June 2014. 20.55pm – Five minutes before kick off.
Hazel, 94, places a bowl of Brazil nuts on the coffee table in anticipation for the opening game of the World Cup 2014, her Samba headdress knocking on the grey, low-hanging light shade. Hazel lifts her flowing, multi-coloured dress, cursing their 48-year-long World Cup tradition, and sits on the dusty, faded floral sofa, waiting for Barbara.
The stair lift finally finishes its creaking descent as Barbara, 96, hops out of the seat and skips to the lounge, flapping her arms and squawking like a bird.
Hazel turns to her friend of 50 years, staring somewhat bemused at the 800 black feathers stapled to four-foot long wing-shaped pieces cardboard attached to her arms, and the Chinese straw Cooli hat sat on her head.
Barbara bows and sits beside her friend.
HAZEL: What’s with the outfit?
BARBARA: My team.
BARBARA: Crow Asia.
HAZEL: …For fuck’s sake
© Carl Burkitt 2014