Children of the future age

John Paul could feel the water seeping into his busted old trainers as he headed for the main entrance of the Forge shopping centre. The chilly December wind cut through his thin track suit and the lazy Glasgow drizzle seemed to seep into every pore of his body. In all his 13 years he hadn’t felt so cold. He scanned the foyer of the centre hoping the security man locals called ‘Robocop’ wasn’t around...