"I saw you and I see you every day. I greet you every day. Can you read my eyes? I miss you every day. I love you every day.
What was this guy’s story? Doorman? Bus driver? Receptionist? Who’s the girl? Has she noticed him? Is he anyone to her, or just the fella behind the counter at Benji’s?
Why doesn’t he say something to her?
But I knew why. Because there’s the creeping fear that these moments don’t actually exist outside your own head. No eyes meet across a crowded room, no two people think precisely the same thing, and if only one person actually has that moment, is it even really a moment at all?
We know this, so we say nothing. We avert our eyes, or pretend to be looking for change, we hope the other person will take the initiative, because we don’t want to risk losing this feeling of excitement and possibilities and lust. It’s too perfect. That little second of hope is worth something, possibly for ever, as we lie on our deathbeds, surrounded by our children, and our grandchildren, and our great-grandchildren, and we can’t help but quickly give one last selfish, dying thought to what could have happened if we’d actually said hello to that girl in the Uggs selling CDs outside Nando’s seventy-four years earlier.
It’s the what if? The what then? And we know that if we go for it, if we risk it, we immediately stand to lose it. But weirdly, some part of us believes the feeling is two-way, because it must be; it’s too special not to be. We believe that something’s been shared, even if the evidence we have is … what? A look that lasted a breath longer than we’re used to? A second glance, when the glance could easily have been to check whether there are any cabs coming, or whether the jacket we’re wearing that’s caught their eye would look good on their boyfriend, or why it is we seem to be staring at them."
Mots clés charlotte-street danny-wallace
What a terrible thing, I thought, to let a moment go.
Danny WallaceYou were always an underdog in a videogame, but always guaranteed to win if you just kept plugging away, learned the moves, knew when to Save and when to Quit.
Danny WallaceI had it all planned. Or, not planned exactly, but I'd planned to make plans. Plans were very much part of my plan.
Danny WallaceMots clés humor
This is best thing about being manly: it's so easy to fake. Smear some oil on your face, or nod and say "Aaah" near mechanics.
Danny WallaceMots clés humor
Sest üks asi, mida ma lootuse juures kõige rohkem vihkan - mida ma selle juures põlgan, mida keegi teine ei paista selle kohta tunnistavat - on see, et äkitselt leitud lootus on kõige kiirem tee äkilise lootusetuseni.
Danny WallaceMots clés lootus lootusetus
It appears your son was 85 percent curry!
Danny WallaceMots clés humor food masala-dosa
It's funny. Dev had always said disposables were different. That what they contained was more special because you couldn't instantly see inside. You had to wait. You had to invest in the moment and then wait to see what you got. And those moments had to be the right moments. You had to be sure you wanted this moment when you pressed the button, because time was always running out, you were always one click closer to the end. That's what it felt like here. But that's what made it exciting.
I looked at the tin number at the top of the wheel.
1.
Eleven more clicks.
What would they be? Who'd be in them? What story would they tell?
Listen, um ... in case you even feel like saying hello ...' I said, and I handed something else to her
My disposable camera. Twelve moments of my own.
She took it, and smiled like she understood, then looked at me once more. It was a look of recognition, something slowly dawning on her, my face meaning more to her then it had.
'I knew I knew you,' she said.
'I think I knew I knew you, too," I said.
The people around you are you. They share your history. They can even write it with you. And when you lose one, there's no doubt you lose some of yourself, however they're lost.
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