Age Shall Wither Them

Trailing around up town this morning, teeth set in a rictus grin against the chill wind and festive misery, I pop into an AgeConcern UK charity shop to see what Xmas ideas they may be touting. And there, amongst the blunt glassware, chipped picture frames and little china ornaments too hopeless to contemplate, sit three copies of Fifty Shades of Grey. The perfect title . . . about growing decrepit in a drear provincial town.