Strangers talk to me (idea)
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You know how your mother always said "[Don't talk to strangers]"?
Well, strangers talk to me. They do it all the time
Lost children, lost adults, little old ladies, [nutter]s on the bus, each and every person [sell]ing their own particular brand of [salvation].
They always talk to me.
A happy-faced woman will stop me in the street and say, "I just had to tell someone, my son took his [first step] today."
A young man will sit beside me on a [bench] and tell me the story of how he moved to town to be with his [girlfriend], and how she dumped him, hours after he arrived.
In the airport, someone with tear-stained cheeks will turn to me and ask, "[Isn't saying 'goodbye' the worst thing in the world?]"
And wherever I go, and I do mean wherever, even if I'm toting a [backpack] and dragging a [suitcase], I will be asked for [directions].
It isn't a new thing, it's been happening ever since I was ten or eleven. At first I thought [it happened to everyone]. It doesn't.
I've never understood what it is about me. I'm not particularly [tall] or [short], and I'm certainly not particularly good-looking. These days, I'm [fat], but it's not that, because I wasn't always. There is nothing about me to make me [stand out] in a [crowd].
My [husband] claims it's a look in my [eyes] that says I won't turn away. A friend says it's a quality in the way I hold myself. Another says that I give out a sense of being 'grounded' and [at home] wherever I am. They all seemed [reasonable] [explanation]s.
But it happens online too
I doubt if I will ever understand it, but as I've grown [older], I've stopped seeing it as a [pain] and I have realised that I'm almost [unique]ly [privilege]d.
[People want to share their lives with me].
That makes me feel so good.