Alexander Cocks
Master of Art
The Child is the Father
The boy sat atop his father's shoulders.
People congregated in front, behind and either side of him.
He didn't seem to understand the surrounding situation. Twisting around, he would often glance at those voicing opinions or waving cards and large sheets of cardboard smothered with text for attention.
How odd some people are. But the boy was on his father's shoulders, and to him, that was all that mattered.
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