strangers

A new World Kindness Day campaign is all about helping your fellow passengers. These five steps could change someone’s life.
"They were there when I collapsed crying in a stairwell – they gave me hope it would work in the end."
I could rant a lot about douche bags, but today I want to shout out to the other type of people you will come into contact with as a parent.  The one's who are kind and thoughtful.  The one's who can make a tough day better.
Now I am a parent myself, I am faced with a dilemma. Do I terrify my own children about strangers? As an adult, I now know the uncomfortable truth. That children are far more likely to be hurt by people they know and trust and that simply never talking to strangers isn't always enough to keep them safe.
I'm sociable, I really am. Everyone I meet pegs me as an extrovert, the proverbial life and soul (burning bright but fast). I feed off interesting people like some kind of creature of the night, but afterwards I definitely need to recharge, assuming I haven't run out of battery mid-way through a party and am left standing paralysed in the full beam of small talk (or hiding in the loo, as above).
A vlogger who conducts social experiments about children's safety has demonstrated that many children need refresher course
The standard message we tell our children of never talking to strangers could be doing a lot more harm than good, a charity
I refuse to believe we don't believe in equality, seeing love and marriage as a crime rather than a given right. I refuse to believe that the general public of this country would happily let others suffer because they're OK themselves.
I blush. I know where this is going, and unfortunately I don't feel he's my type. At this point I would usually run a mile, but instead I stand there and share a rare moment of conversation with a stranger.
I don't know about you but I make judgements every single day. I judge whether to cross the road or not, whether our baby has had enough to eat, how many raw chocolate bars I need to make for my family because I ate the stash I made last night already... I could reel off a long list!
A few weeks ago a stranger chased me half way down the street to give me my sons glove, which he had dropped from his buggy. She didn't have to go out of her way to do that, but the fact that she did made my life a little easier.
The days of politicians enjoying booze-fuelled lunches and late-night drinking sessions are over, according to a Tory MP
It wasn't a particularly vicious assault, but last week I accidently, and forcefully, whacked my cheekbone with my own tennis racquet and, as a consequence, turned my blue eye black.
Living with people is difficult. End of. It becomes especially difficult when you are forced to live a room in a dusty, cold, Victorian house that used to be a well-known crack den in the Brighton and Hove area.