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A long time ago while drifting about the remnants of a Queen's Day market together with my daughter, I spotted a lonely toddler next to a couple of brimming cardboard boxes. Ten minutes passed and the toddler was still there, so I decided to keep an eye out - until I spotted a policeman, that is, who just like me had taken up station and was keeping a distant but suspicious eye on me. To this day I have no idea what expression I should have assumed under his watchful gaze or what I could have replied to a question that hadn't even been asked. I grabbed my daughter's hand, turned away and for a fleeting moment felt extremely helpless. Didn't my own daughter provide enough of an alibi, my alter ego started, but I was thrown by the unspoken retort, the absurd parallel with a decoy scenario. As much as I am against suppressing thoughts even if the options are way beyond reality - the best defence against reprobates being the ability to be up to their nasty tricks - it seemed for a moment as if my innocence was having to learn to walk all over again. |