Imagine that you are sat on the very front bench.
In a hall containing row after row of benches.
Facing front.
Imagine also that the people sat on the full benches behind you.
Staring at the back of you.
Are all the people you have ever known.
Stand.
Imagine then that you stand.
Stand, and shuffle a very short way to the front of the room.
Climb three small steps.
Slowly.
And then turn.
Faces.
It is a big room.
And you say this.
Silently.
To yourself.
Inside your head.
My.
I have known a lot of people.
And you are right of course.
Because most of us have known.
Or at least have thought we have known.
Many more people than we care to imagine.
Before I Go.
Then.
You speak.
Before I go.
You hear yourself say.
I just want to stand up.
And say something.
If I may.
And then you pause.
Because this is the moment you realise how important what you say next actually is.
And this is the moment you realise how important who you choose to say it to actually is.
Because you can choose to speak to everyone.
Or you can pick out one single person.
And speak only to them.
Eyes.
Your eyes flick around the room.
You want them to scan smoothly.
But instead they flick.
Flick.
Flick.
Until eventually.
You decide.
And smile.
Before I go.
You hear yourself say once more.
I just want to stand up.
And say something.
If I may.
And then.
Calmly.
You say it.
