Temple

Shortly after passing by here, our journey home was interrupted by a long, painstaking, and increasingly surreal search for a toy in the park. Jack had only acquired this cherished plaything less than an hour previously, but after stopping to put on his jacket, suddenly realized it had vanished before his eyes.

I remembered seeing him holding it only seconds before. We searched pockets, bags, and raked the grass with our eyeballs until they hurt. Where could it have gone? It was deeply troubling, as if the laws of physics had been violated. In the circumstances it seemed almost reasonable to begin to suspect a man sitting innocently on a nearby bench of having seized it in a rapid movement when we weren't looking. I scrutinized his profile for signs of psychopathology.

We trod the area in ever-increasing circles until the time came for me to advise him that the thing was gone and he would have to start getting used to it. And as he dug deep and found deep reserves of stoicism to agree to resume our walk home, I saw something on the verge. A few yards beyond our furthest combing was the daft Minion from Despicable Me, grinning sickly at us as we froze in wonder, dizzy with good fortune.