A lady rang me up the other day, she is in her 90s and lives on her own. She hasn’t seen anybody much for weeks. She has a neighbour who lives across the road who she sees from time to time. They shout to each other across the street. “He’s someone to shout at...” She said. But he works away a lot, so there’s no shouting this week.
“We all need someone to shout at”, I said, while thinking – ‘I don’t really like shouting, but if shouting was all I had, I would want to shout.’ I have three people I could shout at, if I really wanted. And ever felt brave enough.
We take too easily for granted the little things that we have, which for others are unimaginable luxuries. Like someone to shout at.
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