Imagine this:

Another rainy day, feeling like one after another, bringing an eternity of rainy days. At a random decision, you decide to stop at a crappy bar for one quick drink. Extra money in your pocket, no plans, and a thirst for something strong, why not? But as you enter, your eyes directly assume the image of a blue-headed girl writing frustratedly down on a piece of loaded paper with a whethered down pencil. "Is she even old enough to be here?" You think at first. Well, maybe she's not, but it's an imaginary world on my profile that's word-counting so let's just flow with it. 

Your curiosity got the best of you, as you pushed you're way through the lunch crowd to the bar stool beside her. "Hey." You started, not missing the flow of unreadable scribbles on the worn-out paged. "Can I read it?". Dang, you thought. This is good. The stories came alive, you could picture them in your head. Before you could say anything else, you notice the blue headed girl is gone. Left in here place is a note, neatly printed black and white. 

"Thanks for reading. Life sucks sometimes, if you need me, just find me. If you want some more, just give me a ring." (Or a follow).