Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Thunder through the clear and empty air

While queueing up for my weekly handout of lentil soup from the Church kitchens, there came a roll of thunder from a cloudless sky. I considered that God might be trying to tell me something, but if he's got something to say to me he can do it to my face.

I was fourth in line. Places 1-3 were taken by a trio of portly women, who were making really quite vicious passive-aggressive remarks about each other's physical stature and appearance, and occasionally poking each other in the stomach. It was really awkward to be in the vicinity of.