It was better when we were all innocent, said John, folding up the newspaper: These days everyone knows too much – finds out too much. Secrets were once off bounds. Now we are suspicious. The world is a hall of mirrors. We search for glimpses of people, but where they really are we can’t be sure. We don’t know where the truth lies. Everything is a distorted reflection. I liked it when everything was hidden. Things got done; people just got on with their lives.
There are no reflections any more, said Wayne, just reality – even if you won’t see it.
MW Bewick 