The public writer is very confused but now she agrees and starts to type.

I realize that I did not understand the writers and that the writer failed to understand me, but we were sharing the space and this short moment together. I realize now that sitting down and telling my memories to a writer was a meeting of a moment in time. I learnt something about the writer and maybe I left a little trace of myself as well. For me this meeting was the actual memory and marking point in time.

(Source: sdebrauw.blogspot.com)