My eldest daughter is looking through the folders of games on my phone. She pauses when she spies one she hasn't yet played- Canabalt.

The man begins to run before, inevitably, he plunges to his death. She inhales sharply, puts her hand over her heart and stares at the spot where he fell. Eventually, she turns toward me, her dark eyes pools of despair. She turns back toward the screen, pauses, then exhales and removes her hand from her heart. She composes herself and presses 'play'.

Every. Single. Time.

She is not yet 3.