Burgess Elvis

[shermarama]

We were in a burger joint in Burgess Hill. If you want to know how small a town Burgess Hill is, about the best you can say for it is that it's near Haywards Heath. Behind the counter, the order-takers scurried and flapped, and behind them, the chef had this air of unhurried quiet satisfaction, flipping burgers and crooning along to some old rock 'n' roll. It was a sandy-haired young woman and the music was early Beatles, but never mind. Perhaps she was a secret love-child of George Harrison. Conspiracy theory always finds a way.