As a child I had always suffered from the foolish fear that everything I could see disappeared as soon as I turned my back on it. No amount of reason could completely banish that fear. At school I would think about my parents’ house and suddenly I would be able to see nothing but a big, empty patch where it had previously stood. I was later prey to nervous anxieties when my family wasn’t at home. I was only really happy when they were all in bed or when we were all sitting around the table. For me, security meant being able to see and touch.
