Ah.
So, it's like this.
I really am naive.
Following after a child who is not a child.
So, I say to the child. Who sent you and where are we going?
Of course, I should have seen it from the first. How had my senses grown so numb?
We stop at the corner of a road and the child who is not a child, looks up at me.
There, he says. There is where you should be.
And because I have followed him all this way after all, I suppose there is no longer any point in struggling and denying that this is how it is meant to be.
Will they be waiting there? I ask.
He looks at me and squints, and then he smiles.