The other day I was at Flury’s, having breakfast, and looking out of their wide glass windows [it covers one whole wall actually], and I watched an assortment of people pass by. As it happens to be one of the busiest crossings of the city there was every sort of person I could think of – workers, students, travelers, beggars, people who passed by giving haughty looks from their expensive cars et all. And one would think looking at this multitude of people I’d be humbled. Most writers write about how they’re humbled before the diversity of humanity. But I just wasn’t. I didn’t feel unimportant at all. I can’t explain it. I felt my life mattered just as much. It feels good to feel significant. I really didn’t feel like a petty pawn. I wonder why.
* Isn't the cake, amazing? To know more about it click here.