Dear Stranger...

Here's the text of a mysterious letter which we discovered in the pages of a random book at Dalston CLR James Library. Beautifully written and tantalisingly anonymous, it seemed like a brilliant way to start a story. So, anyone who comes to the writing group is invited to respond in whatever way you like. Write a reply, speculate on the circumstances of its creation, muse on the concept of anonymity, or use it as the basis for your own short story. We'll publish the results here on the blog over the next few months. 

23/1/2018

Dear Stranger,

Hello. I don’t know who you are, but I am writing you a letter. I hope you get it. I am a person. I live in London – I don’t want to say “I live in London too” as that would be making a presumption about you. You could live anywhere for all I know. Chances are though, that if you’re in Stoke Newington Library, you’re probably a fellow London resident… Anyway, that is enough about geography.

Before/in case you panic, this isn’t a suicide letter! I want to live. I hope you do too.

The thought of a stranger reading this makes me want to reveal shadowy personal details. (Don’t worry. I won’t. Or perhaps you are disappointed…)

It is a rainy Monday morning in January and I have come from work so tired I feel like my chest us collapsing. The whole month so far has felt like that. I was very busy before Christmas, and somewhere in my mind was the fear that if I stopped, something might happen. I so desperately wanted a rest though… and now I am tired all the time. Perhaps it is because I did stop.

SOMETHING HAPPY: The days are getting longer.

SOMETHING SAD: There are a lot of sad people in London. There are a lot of sad people everywhere, I suppose. 

SOMETHING INTERESTING: On this day in 1957, the Frisbee was invented. In 1973 President Nixon announced the Accord ending the Vietnam War.

I don’t know what to say now. I feel a little forlorn. Perhaps you read this and think I am some irritating person…

I shall tell you a story of something I regret. I have told this story to people in their fifties and older and they all thought how young I must be to regret something like this.

I was in a park once, overseas, in a place I thought I would belong. Not to suggest I didn’t belong; the experience of being somewhere you’ve idealised in your head is often different to the reality of it. That’s all. I digress. It was the late afternoon and I had been sitting on a hill in the sun listening to an impromptu jam session occurring at the bottom of the hill. It was mostly people with drums, but there may have been some other instruments involved too. I should mention that I was alone. As the sun moved behind some nearby trees, I moved to escape the shadow. I was now on that [illegible] and notices someone near me dancing. He was dancing to the music the drummers were making, and he didn’t seem to care whether or not he was being watched. I wanted so desperately to get and dance too, but I couldn’t do it.

To this day I regret that I didn’t do it. IT may sound silly and small to you, but I have the thought that even somewhere foreign – even somewhere I was not known and wouldn’t be remembered – I couldn’t get past the idea that I might look silly. It was as if looking sill would mean death.

I’ve improved in my ability to look silly since then, and was recently in a show that involved improvised moving in front of strangers. I hope that doesn’t give you the impression that I am a theatrical type; I’m not. I t was my first ever show, if you could even call it that, and I have no immediate plans to be in another one. Performing is tiring. Maybe that’s why I’m so tired all the time... 

Anyway, I want to say I’ve taken up enough of your time, but the truth is I’m tired of writing, and feeling more and more that this idea was silly. Do I want to trust a stranger with the story of something I regret? Perhaps you can take my regret away for me. Perhaps you think me privileged and naïve if that is what I regret… Perhaps I am. But I am still learning… I think the greatest pains I am destined to experience definitely lie on the road ahead. If you are angry with me, don’t worry; I will suffer too, inevitably. We all suffer at some point in our lives. Ok. That’s all.

Thank you for reading this. I really hope that you have a nice day.

All my love,

A Fellow Stranger

xx