I have heard
that once, back when the internet was new and technology still scarce, rich or
poor, privileged or not, everyone was able to dream.
Why was that
right not protected?
A Summer Dream
He did not feel
remorse.
It was neither
a psychological condition nor a twisted code of morals. I was familiar with
those, and what drew me to him was that he was different. Different from other
criminals. Different from other people. Different from myself.
I was drawn to
that inexplicable allure of impulsivity, the unpredictable nature of both his
character and the life he led. He lived a complicated life in a simple world
where sensible humans desired simplicity.
This profession
and position exists because it is simple. Being a lawman, after all, is
ridiculously simple. There were rules in place in the world and what a lawman
did was uphold those rules. Like things should be, there is no grey area. The
rules are adhered or they are broken. No bending. No loopholes. My job is to
apprehend and punish those who break them.
By the time his
case came into my hands, he’d become quite renown. Robin. That’s what he called
himself, at least. His government-registered name was equally simple but quite
different.
Though I hold
pride in my mnemonic aptitude, it fails to linger in my memory. If anything, I’d
cite the cause to that encounter – my first and last encounter with thief
called Robin.
