What’s your story, dear stranger? You don’t know me but I walked by you on the street today. And I walked by another one of you the day before yesterday and the day before that. There are so many of you, dear stranger, it boggles my mind. So tell me, what’s your story? Are you happy? Are you having a good day? Did something amazing happen to you today? I don’t care who you are. I don’t care if you are the person who sings loudly in public or if you’re the person who silently stands on the sidewalk. I don’t care if you are a lecher. I don’t care if you’re an oddball. Nor do I care if you’re a great person. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here, asking you your story because I don’t know it. How did you get that mark on your forehead? Was it a street brawl or was it something silly like you fell off your bicycle? Why did you smile at that child? Do you like children? Do you have children? Why were you so angry? Did you argue with someone just some time back? Was it bad? Did you feel embarrassed when you tripped on the road? Why do you keep touching your hair? Are you self-conscious? Do you constantly worry about what people think of you? What are your struggles? What demons are you dealing with in your mind? What makes you happy? Do you miss someone? Why the distant look? Have you lost something you love? Tell me, dear stranger. I won’t let your story go untold. I will listen. I want to know your story, not for any other reason except that I don’t know it.


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