Or maybe the force governing time has some perverse sense of humor, and enjoys tweaking me into knots just to watch Interlopers like me squirm. At this point, given what I know about time and the fact that causality has given up and gone home, the malevolent universe theory is one that looks better and better every day.
Anyway, back to finding someone who would really rather stay hidden. There’s lots of ways to disappear into a crowd. Maris managed to do absolutely none of these things. The first rule is to dress in a nondescript fashion. “Gray hoodie” is far more ambiguous than “looks like they’ve been attacked by a psychotic colorblind metrosexual”. Next, speak the language. Usually this is metaphorical, but Maris naturally takes it far too literally. Finally, act like you belong completely where you are, and don’t draw attention to yourself. Maris managed to ask [What's that?] at very nearly everything that wasn’t in a clothing shop, and what was in those, she asked why it was so crude and rough. So, every clerk responded with equal parts “Oh, how cute!” and “Miss, please tell your daughter not to pull on that.”
I’m actually not sure how to respond to that last bit. She looks nothing like me, and I don’t look old enough to be a mom yet, do I really?