Glitch Drafts

Every Draft Is A Glitch.

A Stranger’s Draft
Daily writing prompt
Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.

Alley in the shadows. Crickets chirped. I sat on the ground, tired. Lightning out, cold and airy. I could feel my skin turn pale. It was a terrible night. But there was a hut of hope. Steamy dumplings, cooked my humble senses. It was famine week. But the thoughts couldn’t pass. A white board appears as my footsteps ensue. A tower stood above me, staring at the cashier. The menu was scattered. Words streaming on the board. Static, stuck in time. Frozen at that moment.

I proceeded to pick up, taking mental notes. A green card wafted from my ripped pockets as I reached in. But a hand stopped me. It was the stranger. We didn’t exchange words. I didn’t start. He didn’t stop. But for no reason, he continued: “It’s my treat tonight. My treat, kid.”

Me: “Huh?”

I was confused. But before reacting, I paused.

It was a glitched response. But a draft move.

Him: “You look tired. Hungry. Take what you want. On the house.”

It was a full day’s work for me. But he didn’t know that. I gratefully obliged.

I thanked him.

That day, the heavens smiled.

The stranger proceeded to write something, on paper. He spoke about his family, his times at the restaurant. Wonderful memories. A draft in time, pausing my days that part.

I wrote drafts . But he was a glitch that night. I was full. The food was good. A positive encounter.

Sometimes, drafts glitch. We glitch drafts.

So, what are you waiting for? Start writing.

Did you enjoy this writing draft? Comment below on what you thought. 🙂

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One response to “A Stranger’s Draft”

  1. Kalyanasundaram Kalimuthu Avatar

    Some people pay the bill. Others quietly pay attention to what your soul needs.

    This moment feels like life pressed pause and handed you a warm plate—both food and feeling. That stranger didn’t just offer dinner. He offered a soft patch in a hard day, like a warm towel after cold rain.

    Sometimes kindness shows up without a name, without a reason—just like a pop-up window in our routine. No grand speeches, no hashtags. Just one small gesture that feels louder than a thousand words.

    It’s strange how a simple meal can feed parts of us we didn’t know were hungry.

    Liked by 2 people

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