Part Russian

I like long stories. Both listening and dishing. I like making stories in my head about daily experiences. Things I see on the road, conversations, scents... just about anything. Ordinary text messages I make usually go beyond the one message length. This blog is where I want to put all the excess stories.

Yesterday, driving into the main road, there was a slowing down at my usual U-turn. Nearing the turn I saw that there was an accident involving a pizza delivery motorbike and a van. It seemed no one was hurt though. I saw the pizza delivery guy sitting on the U-turn island and gathered around him were kids from a nearby shanty. The guy seemed stunned and was staring blankly at the street. The kids were sitting right beside him, staring blankly too. The guy was so small and frail he didn't look much older than the kids beside him. What touched me most is how these kids just gathered around him like that. So close. As if they knew him. The comfort of strangers. The comfort of young kids.

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