The local MP came to visit today.
He played with his tie, in the half-empty boiling hot working class room.
Nobody offered him water.
He looked outside at the summery breeze and chewed his nails for an hour or so.
I tried to think of a question.
But all of them were already answered.
He paused and smiled at the camera.
I had a name-tag around my neck.
He had nothing.
I sat on a tree-legged small plastic chair.
He sat on a piece of cake.