Being read

And here's a sweeping generalisation: anyone who has ever written anything, feels a tingle when someone else reads their work. It's a mixture of fear, anticipation, hope, intimacy with the text, preparation for defending one's work, preparation to explain the context in which it was written, and altogether an elevated perception of the importance of the said work and an imaginary Pulitzer-receiving speech, for the boldest of us.

I was typing stinky palachinki to open the dashboard to the blog, when I realised I was not typing in the address bar but the Google search bar instead. Curious, I ENTER-ed. You cannot imagine my surprise when I saw a tweet with my blog article about the personal story of the man who sells tickets on the Selly Oak train station.. It was a story personal to me, it was very genuine and very brief, like, I am willing to bet, most genuine moments are. It was a sad story of loss, hope and moving on, and a story which I thought was worth telling. 

To see that someone has read and shared it with others was spectacular. To see that a second person, whom I don't even know, had retweeted it... speechless. Like any budding writer, I am flattered and grinning. I hope there are more stories worth spreading in the future. Even better, the story of this unique man will be told, maybe we can learn from the way he accepts and deals with life.