Sweat

It smells of cigarettes, the white shop stuffed with hoover bags. The fumes are dripping from the ceiling. A chubby man with a shiny head appears from behind a door at the back. Dried sweat has left a drawing on the shoulders of his dark blue cotton jumper. A salty jumper. His fleshy fingers smile when they finger through a folder with all sorts of papers. He finds what I’m looking for.