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And so they were left with the image. A lone young father, crying bitter tears. And next to him a hyper-ventilating grandmother, a young scared boy, and in the arms of the policemen, a girl child. His girl child. The day before, and the earlier parts of today, had been spent dwindling away the hours, talking about this and that. And all without a care. Awake until 5am, slept in until 3pm, getting home at 5pm and waiting for a bus until 7pm. And we never found out what happened. The final result is up to us. The man was given his daughter back; it turned out his wife had left him and he simply wanted to run as a result; he'd become greedy and wanted his daughter for himself. Whatever we want. But it was an image that marked your mind and made you think. No one could deny that, lest they knew where the man was coming from, and had felt the experience themselves. Eitherway, it made me appreciate the opportunities I have, and the women who sat beside me. |