(women's locker room at pool, two women approximately in their 80s are talking as they dry off from the shower) they're talking about the horror of what qualifies for as art these days. I wish I had a pen in the shower, but I'm pretty sure this is an exact quote: "I don't care what the artist is thinking. I want to know: is it pretty enough?"
And then later, as I'm drafting the letter I'd like to sent to the wonderful woman who agreed to take a look at my work - I'm thinking about how to best explain my motivation behind "Talking to Strangers" and suddenly the power goes out in the coffee shop. First, a startled silence, which is quickly followed by the instant connecting of strangers in the dark. A chorus of "are you okays" and speculations as to what caused the out, people immediately springing into action to help the shop's employees, and each other. People seated in tables near the window offer to share their tables so others can continue reading or writing, and then suddenly the whole coffee shop is one big conversation. I love that. So as I'm sharing a table with the guy who offered it to me, we get to talking and here's my favorite quote from him : "this whole business of having kids is just a crapshoot."
In the coffee shop this morning I experienced the essence of what talking to strangers yields. That is what I want to convey in my writing. That, more than anything, life is a choose your own adventure. Every person you meet along the way you have the opportunity to help, the words exchanged can influence the trajectory of a life.