It is three o’clock in the morning and there are very few people at the airport. I am very sleepy and the young border officer who is scanning my luggage is also very sleepy. ‘You have a horseshoe in your suitcase,’ he is looking at me with a spark of curiosity in his eye. ‘Has it brought you good luck?’ How can I tell him what I am looking for? How can I tell him who I am looking for? How can I tell him my story? I am very tired. I am very tired with my hopeless search.
I tell him about the horseshoe I found on top of a pile of garbage in the communal gardens. I scrubbed it clean and I tied a piece of red ribbon on it. When my mother’s friend saw the horseshoe, he examined it very thoroughly. ‘A lame horse was wearing it,' was his verdict.
Lame?
