Whose story is it anyway?

If you could write a story about that stranger you are staring at what would that story be?  For instance that seemingly homeless woman sitting in the corner seat alone having a conversation with herself.  She is alone apparently because no one wants to sit next to her.  Obviously homeless because she was haphazardly dressed and had two large not-too-clean suit cases sitting in front of her. 

Are we afraid? Am i?   And if so, afraid of what?  What is the story we have assigned her that make us afraid?  Is she mad?  Mad because she was rendered homeless after she unwittingly signed over her paid for home to some unscrupulous “investor”?  She was just looking for some extra money after her husband of 50 years suddenly passed.  Who would take care of her? Hubby is gone. Home is gone.  What now?

What was your story for her?

Or what about that young lad fast asleep, full length on the number 2 train?  Is he on drugs? Why is he sleeping on the seat we just purchased for $2.50?  What is the story we have assigned to him? Maybe he is tired because he worked all night then had to get up and help his special needs sister get ready for school. Dad is long gone and mom died last year. She made him promise he would finish college no matter how hard it got.  So here he is getting the most sleep he will get before the weekend. Once he finishes class he will rush home to make sure his sister eats and do her homework before he heads out to his full night at the UPS packaging plant. 

So what was your story for him?

I have often looked in the faces of strangers in the subway on the bus or in the check out line at the supermarket and wonder “what is his story?”.  And wonder, “where has she been?” 

What about you?

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