Motion caught my eye so I looked out the right side of the windshield. It looked like horseplay at first, then like someone was being mugged, lastly like a bum was being rolled. He was lying face down, I didn’t see him moving. The two teenage boys, maybe seventeen years old, were already walking away.
“Kinda serves him right, if he’s a fall-down-drunk bum” I said to myself trying to convince myself of something and kept driving.
“What if he isn’t a bum?”
“So what if he is? It’s below freezing, he wasn’t wearing a heavy jacket.”
“A man’s life might be a risk, all because you want to go about your normal life.”
There were other questions, other statements, I made it about six city blocks at thirty miles per hour before I turned around.
It took me that long to value that dude’s whole entire life greater than one half hour of my day to day.
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