He was a third of my size. I had framed the shot so as not to see faces, but he was so small he fit neatly within what the others extended beyond. He holds the illustration in front of the camera with two index fingers, placed at the top of the paper to keep it flat. It’s still bouncing as the boy’s weight shifts between his left and right legs, not nervously, but in a way that suggests he’s really thinking about the questions I’m asking. “What made you draw that?” I pull my voice so as not to sound like I’m accusing him of something. “Well…”, he glances at the ceiling above his left shoulder in reflection, “It’s life and death”, he states confidently. I scan his drawing. There’s a spider’s web in the centre, which is pretty straightforward compared to some of the more profound symbols that surround it. “What is? The internet?” I ask the boy, who seems impatient given that it is the internet that I asked him to draw. “Yes, the internet.” I point out the tombstone and the flower, which are particularly interesting after the illustrated YouTube interfaces some of the pervious kids presented. “It’s life and death,” he says again, “people can’t live with it and they can’t live without it.” Before I can delve into the depths of this small person’s symbolism, he’s pulled away. The school bus is leaving.