Asked the young boy with a friendly smile.
I am not a watchman, so I pulled out my cell, looked, told him what time it was. He said thank you.
Only then did I really notice his mother. What I remember about her is that she was vibrant, had that quality that makes you feel good and safe in someone's presence, a complete stranger to boot.
We are practising, she said to me, you know, the psycholo.., she trailed off.
It's been how many years? I don't remember exactly, but at least ten. She and her boy still have a home in my memories. How are they doing? Was the child psychologist satisfied with the exercise?
Out of the hundreds of posts on this blog, there were a few that elicited this memory.
Curiously, the memory was rekindled by an article in the press about the urge to put your life, and the life of your cat, goldfish, dog, petunia plant, out on the internet.
Of all the motives the article listed, the one missing was the equivalent of the child sitting on a low wall in the sunshine in front of the house, asking passers-by for the time of day.
So, to you out there who are doing this on the internet, I can tell you what time it is.
It's your time.
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