For some reason I can’t get this story out of my head. The guy shoots his own daughter, thinking she’s a car thief. You think, jeez what an idiot: he’s an ex-Springbok, a bull-necked Boer, not normally the sort of guy to inspire sympathy. But then…
He’ll be running an endless loop in his mind: wake up, hear the noise outside, someone trying to get into the car, the surge of anger, “right, this time I’ll get the bastards,” see a shadowy figure, rush to get the gun, take aim, fire… Why didn’t I see it was her? Why didn’t I aim high, low, to the side, just to scare? Why why why why. His own daughter for God’s sake. But whichever way he turns it, however often he asks himself why, it’s always going to come out the same. And now he’s being charged with murder. What circle of hell is this poor guy now living in?
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