"Help us to discard all those things that keep us from our true self."
-- Nora Gallagher

True self. The notion attracts me. What is my true self? I believe it is expressed in the fourth part of my mission, the one I had taken out and recently restored: Random acts of heroic kindness. Generous largesse, especially for the underdog--I find that thrilling when I can do it--when I have the means, and the right person comes along who is in need of it. That makes my day.

The sun is now overhead, basking the air around me in warmth. It's almost a little uncomfortable, but I'll take it over the chill anytime. The chirpings and cawings have subsided to a quiet din. I hear the neighbours moving about over the hedge. "Daddy, can I play for a while right now?" "Sure." "What do you want to play, Daddy? Pirates, or Batman and Robin?" "Aye aye, captain."

In the clouds I see: a fish wearing a mask, the glittering eyes of a frowning alien, a PlayStation controller, a winking cat, a coat of arms tilted, Kai the Roc, a cat's face pressed against the glass, the stare of an angry woman.

The air turns hot. I return inside.