Walking, talking, taking pictures. Would I wind up in a picture? Would someone download their photos and see me, wondering what I was doing? Would ...hey know? Would I be in their imaginations?...yes, I want that, oh yes...I got to the end of the pier and stopped. I watched the water taxi come in. Just then a gust of wind blew off the harbor and lifted up my skirt.My heart raced as I looked down, fighting the urge to hold my skirt down with my hands. The wind kept gusting, my skirt. I mentioned it to mum, but she just remarked, 'Fucking hell Mariel, it's not the end of the world, just play along, most of these pervs only last a couple of minutes'.Which is fine, but saying it to your 15 year old daughter, makes you wonder if your mother has your best interest at heart, or the gropers in need of younger bait to touch.The journey starts close to the affluent area where I lived, and as we descend down into the town the areas become more seedy and the passengers more desperate. More

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