Dorset, seaside town. I meet an big woman with a child in a chip shop and before I know it I've moved in with her, just for a few weeks. It's awkward, she wants love but I just want to be friends. She's writing a book on the public parks of Dorset, it's her life's work and is very dull. She'll never finish it. On weekends we take buses to different parks and walk around them as she tells me their history. Now she has to move flats, her new flat is tiny and smells of mould, I wont move in. We say goodbye on the street, as she cries I read a council notice forbidding loud noise between 6pm and 4am (excepting ice-cream vans) and wonder if crying counts.