The sun shone through the windscreen and the inside temperature of the car was bordering on unbearable. Soon, she’d have to open the window. Soon. But for now, she’d turn up the radio and put on her sunglasses. Some Latin American beats filled the car and she started to dance a little in her seat as she drove slowly through the shops. A man stepped out in front of her and, for no explainable reason, she waved at him. His face twisted and he started to shout at her, so viciously that she could see the sun flickering off his saliva. As she drove away, she giggled at the thought that he probably expected to be abused by someone who gesticulated near him, not waved at. Normally, his reaction would make her angry. But the music and the sun kept her smiling.