Falling Half in Love with Strangers

“I pried further into his life on the carriage ride to wherever we were going. He told me about his last girlfriend and how long they had been together and how it had ended. He told me about the food that brought back childhood memories for him, and how he had spent his birthday. At one point, clattering over cobblestones on a dimly lit, empty street, he nudged my thigh with his hand.


“You want?”

His hand opened slightly, offering me the reins.

“Me? I can’t! Max, I’ll crash your carriage.”

He nodded insistently and put the reins in my hands.”

– Quinn


I’m not sure what to add because Quinn described it perfectly. We all have that one or two particular strangers that we accidentally meet along the way. On our way home, idyllic thoughts over a hot train ride. Standing side-by-side, awkward turn that sends a curve of both you, and the stranger’s lips.

and he ‘Hi’ back.

Refusing to break that awkward starter, ‘Guess the air-conditioners aren’t working.’

Reluctantly he replied, ‘Yeah, sorry if I smell bad. I sweat easily.’

Made you smile. ‘All of us you mean. We are basically packed like sardines, and its a hot night.’

He laughed. ‘I bet! On your way home?’

And it continues until one of you reaches your destinations. Leaps off the train, knowing that you will never see each other again. A quick goodbye is all you need.

When Do I Get The Manual?


I love being able to express myself in writing.

It feels more accurate somehow than speaking words. Talking for me can sometimes feel like playing tennis with a colander; I mean, it’s possible, I can do it, but it’s not ideal. The ball goes over the net, but just about. It goes where I want it to go… more or less. I can’t be sure it’ll hit it’s mark, but I can hope. Later, I’ll go home and think about how I could have done it some other, better way.

Writing is different.

Writing is a tennis racket. When I’m writing, I have the time to think about what I’m trying to say, and then mentally flip through millions of words looking for the one that slots into my sentence like that Tetris block you’ve been waiting five minutes for; the one that gives you a combo and wipes the…

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