To Gloria
You were on a ship with your mother, waving to your father on the dock. He was an engineer in the British Army about to suffer its worst defeat ever. You had already had to leave your beloved dog behind. The Japanese were coming quickly from the North and all the British guns were pointing South, as the high command were expecting the terrible enemy to come from that direction. You were eight years old and already knew your dad was difficult; whenever he was promoted he was almost immediately sent the other way on account of his uncontrollable temper.
The ship moved slowly away, your father became smaller and smaller, your heart was sinking. Perhaps you knew you were going to Australia but what did that mean? The war was raging all around. Would you ever arrive? When I met you fifty years later you told me you never saw your father again. He died in Changi gaol but of course you never knew how. You felt your mother could never accept that he was not coming back. The terrible news came by telegram.
ABSURDITY ANGUISH FREEDOM.