‘Alma, Alma, Alma’ , somebody calls. The faint voice is growing louder as I am walking on Millbank. It sounds as if I am walking towards him. ‘Alma, please Alma’, he calls at ME. As I am walking towards him I see the man wearing a helmet on a motorbike and stuck in heavy traffic. He thinks he recognises me. He tries to catch my eye and my attention. He tilts and moves to leave his bike bang in the middle of the street but as the car in front moves slowly he just doesn’t . ‘ Alma please wait’, he tries one more time. But as surprised I smile and do not stop and pass him by, he knows I am not Alma. And so again she breaks his heart.
