One unusual day, no particular day, an old man walked past me. He wore a hat so I could not see his face but as he walked past a sweet smell of perfume like the one that my mother used to wear could be smelt. When the man walked past me completly, he looked back at me. I looked into his dark grey eyes. But he just turned back around. I looked along the busy highstreet. There were cars of all different shapes and sizes. And shops that sold almost everything. About 5 minutes later, the old man walked past me again. This time he stopped infront of me and asked if my father was Mr. Johnson. I remember when I was younger, I was told not to talk to strangers. So I said no. But there was a gleam of light in his eyes which told me that he know the entire truth. But he just walked past me again. A few days went by and the man that I meet could not get out off my mind, I wondered sometimes if I had made the right choice by not telling him about my father.