Growing old

I don't remember how afraid I used to be of big, older guys when I was just 3. I do know that the little boy who was making a tremendous noise in the staircase this afternoon looked absolutely petrified when I came out of my apartment to check where the racket was coming from.
When I saw the boy, and the look of terror in his eyes for having been caught, I couldn't help but smile, but this did nothing to alleviate his fears. On the contrary. When I thanked him for stopping banging his umbrella against the staircase, he turned around and started staring at the concrete.
There is nothing special about Dutch concrete. As we know since the murder of Theo van Gogh, it doesn’t even absorb blood very well.
I thought of buying the boy’s and my peace of mind by offering him a candy bar. Unfortunately, because of dietary concerns, I didn’t have those available and I seriously doubted whether he would settle for cat candy. Not to mention the kind of trouble this would have gotten me in with Ender. So I went back inside.
Maybe I’ll buy an umbrella tomorrow.

18:06

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