I suppose in talking about stories it was never going to take me long before I came to discuss words. The power of words is something I find incredible. They seem like nothing until they are strung together in a way that we make meaning from. Whether it is a novel or a story written in under ten words, the author’s ability to make me feel empathy for people or draw me into the story wanting to know more is something which just amazes me.
If we go to the right places we can see fragments of life. Whilst I don’t approve of graffiti (for my purposes writing in places without permission), some of the things I see intrigue me and make me wonder about a person’s life and what could have helped or hurt them so much that they needed to inform the world.
There are so many stories which words left behind raise. What happened? Was the issue ever fixed? Where are they now? And I guess that’s why writers use words. They use words to try and fill in the blanks that they have, because for many it was words which inspired them to begin writing.
Words have so much power and I think that of all things we humans leave behind on this Earth they tell our stories best, giving clues to who we are. For this reason I consider words to be the most beautiful and the most dangerous things I use.
This is the second in a series of posts about how the things we own tell stories. I don’t know how many I’ll end up writing, but if you liked it and want to check out the first one, click here. Or for the third, here.