I ran out to get a sandwich, or rather two, once my brain made the connection between my wandering mind and my empty stomach. It was almost 3.
On my way back, a woman with ratty clothing and indecipherable speech approached me. All I gleaned was that she wanted money to eat.
My first sandwich had not survived the two block walk back to the office; it was lying in my hand in plain view of the hungry beggar. So I broke it in half. Or rather I broke off a piece, because it wasn't exactly half. In fact, it was a good deal less than half. With flashbacks to childhood arguments over portion size, guilt crept over me. Was I being fair?
I extended my arm towards her with the less-than-half sandwich. She took it, continuing to mumble. This time I caught what she was saying, "Money for..."
I said "no" and continued my return trip, the guilt wiped clean.
On my way back, a woman with ratty clothing and indecipherable speech approached me. All I gleaned was that she wanted money to eat.
My first sandwich had not survived the two block walk back to the office; it was lying in my hand in plain view of the hungry beggar. So I broke it in half. Or rather I broke off a piece, because it wasn't exactly half. In fact, it was a good deal less than half. With flashbacks to childhood arguments over portion size, guilt crept over me. Was I being fair?
I extended my arm towards her with the less-than-half sandwich. She took it, continuing to mumble. This time I caught what she was saying, "Money for..."
I said "no" and continued my return trip, the guilt wiped clean.
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