She came at us out of the sun. The weatherbeaten cheeks, a fine filigree of red and purple capillaries pulled to the surface by cold winds on rugged walks, perfectly matched the hat and scarf. Blocking our path, in full force she came upon us. Her stout coat and boots servicing her advance. She had us in her sights, a captivating smile, picking us off one by one.
We knew her, each from a different point in our lives, we had to stop. Two stroke conversations of weather and health ensued. Her squadron zooming in and out around us, leaflet delivery their urgent task. The message was in print, no need to accost, get involved in political chat.
For us, there was no escape, though I was soon vanquished, not of her constituency.
My friend, unfortunately, the prefect target. There was nowhere to duck or dive. For each shot he tried a riposte. I watched in horror. This was an unequal battle, polite rebuff, outmanoeuvred by dogmatic fortitude. Every vote counts.

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