*The door opens*
Old Man: Wait, I remember you. You’re that woman from yesterday!
Yeah, I am. Listen, I know you’re probably going to be mad at me for this but…
*Hands him the files of poems*
…I collected all of your poems and read them.
Old Man: *shocked* What? Where did you get these? Have you been stealing from my home?
Uh, no. You threw them on me. Remember.
Old Man: *embarrassed* Oh. Yes. I did, didn’t I.
You know, a lot of them are really good! Have you ever considered publishing?
Old Man: Oh, er, thank you but they’re not that good. Besides, they’re erm, *ahem* personal.
*suddenly he slams the door in my face*
*shocked* Wha-? HEY! You weren’t supposed to do that! *sigh* Never mind. Maybe I should stop trying to change people’s lives.
*walks off, hands in pockets and kicking the paper balls along the way.*