The kid moved like her knees were just hinges, wobbling to and fro before falling on her padded bottom. Then she clapped like it was all part of the plan and rolled to her stomach to get up again. She was asian looking and cute as hell. She was dressed in a primrose pinafore dress and those soft first shoes kids wear, the ones they can still feel the ground through. Then from behind an over-sized rhododendron came her mother with a smile to light up the whole town. The girl giggled, waving her arms for the pick-up she knew was coming, but before she was hoisted high she was on her bottom again.
I think it's scenes like that that keep me going back to the park for lunch. I need these little reminders that people are inherently good and loving; otherwise the tide of doomsday press will sweep me away into some fearful and narrow-minded thought pattern. I never wanted to be like that and I still don't...
My little trip down memory lane is interrupted by Darwin. He's lost his fascination with the night-time world, now he is back to one of his favourite games, trying to see how many of his fingers he can wedge into my mouth. I take his hand and peel it away. Perhaps this a game he played with his Mom, or maybe she liked it just as much as I do. He giggles and brings his other hand round to my mouth. Well, two can play at that game. I turn him around to face the street and he shakes his hands up and down in protest.
Found in Darwin's Ghost - first draft, authored by .