The Art of Imagining

Today I was walking down the street at Circular Quay and I saw a busker.

I can’t help but wonder they’re story. Anyone’s story.

Were they busking for the money, because they hated their real job, because they were a famous CEO who needed to escape the wrath of their evil father so decided to rebel and chase their dream of being a musician?

I can’t help but wonder.

The busker was really good, playing guitar. (Like really, really good.)

People are so interesting. There are so many stories within every single person, and most people I don’t know even one story. How bizarre is that?!

Sarah xx

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