Monday, 23 November 2009
Andy, aged 4 (PG warning!)
The Perfect Stranger
A week, maybe two, has passed since the story began and, oddly, I have no exact memory of it starting but something must have triggered a spark … a spark that is now becoming a daily glow.
Most of my time during the day is spent alone. I do the laundry, ironing, cleaning and I spend time on a site called Twitter where I can chat to thousands of people. It’s like opening a huge window and getting a full blown view of the world and it’s also a great place to make new friends and now something totally unexpected has happened … I have met the perfect stranger.
The perfect stranger knows nothing about me. I can be sitting here in my PJs or still wearing yesterday’s makeup – it makes no difference. I can write my thoughts or just share a moment and it’s like magic, the perfect stranger writes back. This is something that has never happened before to me, it’s almost like having a secret diary that talks back to you. Like I said … magic.
So what is perfect? Perfect is always going to mean something slightly different to each individual. For me, it’s finding something or someone that I’ve been consciously or sub-consciously looking for, then at exactly the right moment you find it. That’s what makes it perfect.
Having a complete stranger read and listen to what you’re saying and then taking the time to write back, with no judgment, no stupid remarks or quirky comments - just quiet understanding is perfect. It’s more than perfect - it’s amazing. Sometimes I write something that I think is completely “off the wall”. Where on earth did that thought come from?That’s the type of thing I don’t even need to explain. The stranger answers and leaves me with the feeling of not being quite so crazy after all.
Yesterday, I summoned up the courage to write this: “You are the perfect stranger, and if I were a writer, I would write a story”. This morning, I got the reply: “Write the story, then you will be a writer”.
