"Have you got any soul?" a woman asks the next afternoon.
That depends, I feel like saying; some days yes, some days
no. A few days ago I was right out; now I've got loads, too
much, more than I can handle. I wish I could spread it a bit
more evenly, I want to tell her, get a better balance, but I
can't seem to get it sorted. I can see she wouldn't be inter-
ested in my internal stock control problems though, so I
simply point to where I keep the soul I have, right by the
exit, just next to the blues.