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Thunder rolls over London. It breaks like the crack of a whip. I have a sample of purple satin, which I place next to the pinstriped cloth. Somehow the satin brings out the pinstripe, almost purpling the grey. The fabric smoulders as I fold it. The satin fibres shimmer in the light.
It's lunchtime now and my stomach begins to rumble. The rain has turned into a thick grey smudge. I think of a quote by D.H. Lawrence, comparing London to a dull grey stone under which we creep like insects. Before picking up my umbrella and heading off into the rain, I order the perfect fabric ensemble: a Midnight Blue suit with a purple satin lining. At least this way, I think, I'll carry colour around London. The inside of my jacket will flash in the light. No matter what the weather. No matter how deadeningly grey the day.
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