It is like a landscape that labour under dark clouds
when I remember, the call I got from former woman friends
she had broken up with me because she was pregnant
with Dutch fellow from Amsterdam
15 years later she rang me -I`m old fashion do not change
my phone number often- the Dutchman had gone old and
returned to Holland, that his daughter was really mine
if I would come and say hallo.
I went to her house but wisely had my wife with me, my
“Daughter” was 14 and had the Down syndrome, a nice little
person who likes to hug and kiss people, I had no knowledge
whether she was my daughter or not and there is nothing
about this disabled child that reminded her of me except she
I could have taken blood test to ascertain if it was my child
I didn`t want to know the result, didn`t want to be bothered.
My wife was angry said I was egocentric, so I agreed to let her
visit us for a few days every month.
The woman I had sex with, twenty years ago says the girl need
this and that, new shoes but, not bought at a Chinese shop
I ignore that and walk her about in the village as I did my dog,
stroke her hair tell her she is a nice girl,
but no, I can`t get it into my head that she is my daughter.