You meet a child who knows what you’re thinking. The walk-light has just gone red.
“Have we met before?” you say. “Are you lost?”
“Yes, and no. To both questions. You’re confused now, a bit alarmed. You’re trying to think about anything but That Thing, but you’re circling the topic so narrowly that I can see the shape of it in your mind.”
You look away.
“That’s a naughty word.”
“I want you to–”
“–stop doing that.” The child sighs. “Yes, I know. You needn’t think such mean things about me, you know. It’s not like I can help it.”