Strangers

I was on the train the other day and I saw a man with his head in his hands. It made me wonder what his story was. Maybe he had a wife who was in hospital, maybe he had just lost his job, or maybe he had just had too much to drink. It made me think about strangers, about people. We are all just extras in each other’s life, wandering through, going about our everyday business. We see the girl who is wearing too many bracelets and the boy who looks a little too thin. We see the woman selling the Big Issue on street corners and we know that she is just trying to earn a living. But we do not help. We have our own problems to worry about. Yet haven’t we always wanted people to strike up a conversation with us, to find out more about us, to make us open up to them? We laugh at the teenage girl pushing the pram, automatically assuming that she is a s**t and we loathe the dodgy men selling cannabis in dark alleyways. Yet we have all heard the saying “there’s more than meets the eye.” I think that we are all too scared to get caught in something even more complicated than our own lives.  The sad truth is, everyone has a story, but no-one wants to read it.

Reviews

[Rose of many colours]

Awesome write.A lesson to learn from this piece.When I come across these charactersa and I made these observations,I say a silent word of prayer for them, cause I was one of them.Thank you for a reminder though. It ie a masterpiece