For reasons outside my control today, I landed up having lunch on my own. Well, I wasn’t completely alone. The dog was with me. I had my camera with me, just in case, and one of the only things I managed to photograph (because I refuse to photograph my food) was the book, Emma by Jane Austen, that was lying on the windowsill next to me. I didn’t think much of it. Just photographed it ‘cos it was there. Then it got me thinking. What was the story of Emma? I wasn’t sure if I’d read it before, so I quickly looked it up to find out the premise of the storyline. It turns out, Emma wouldn’t be my cup of tea, if I met her in real life. I can in no way relate to the character. And for that I’m grateful. That is all.