"Is there anything that shocked you at that time?" asked the interviewer. I was bemused at how insignificantly she raised that question, it was as passive as the fan on top of us which moaned stress-fully, on and on and on. The heat of the day was forcing my armpits to overflow and my muddy cotton shirt to stick onto them, this greatly exaggerated the unpleasant stature of my existence at that time. I thought about insignificance again, how my story mattered the least to her day-to-day affairs. How it eventually meant nothing but a secure dinner maybe, with her middle-class husband perhaps, who can't wait to hear her torrid tales of routine. "I don't know" I said "Looking down, I felt my legs never belonged to me." "Why is that so?" she persisted. It seemed as though the fan was moaning after every word she spoke with even less a vigor. "Perhaps it was only then I really began looking down." "What does that sig...