602. The black hat

A picture of me. Years ago. The day before they gave me a call on my cell phone. Asked me to start work in a bank 'tomorrow'. Alright. Went in to town. Bought the cheapest white shirt I could find. Black trousers and a black hat. Had a haircut. Worked in a bank in Manchester: Those sad eyes scanned the customers, they were all strangers from another planet. Aliens! I was their alien, too. The smell of sweet perfume. The white shirt; dirty. Dirtier for every day. Almost grey. Spots all over. The trousers; wet of rain. The hair growing long again. But my black hat, as black as ever before.