Two nights ago, as I was exiting the M train to go home after working until 2am, a man entered the car that I had been traveling in. This man looked like he had been beaten mercilessly; his face was bleeding and completely covered with scrapes and welts.
He was walking without difficulty and seemed to be coherent, but he was in bad shape.
His ability to get himself home may rationalize my reaction, but I am still a terrible person because my second thought, (preceded by the understandable 'oh, shit') was, "That doesn't look believable. If he was was injured that bad he would have dirt and blood on his clothes as well."
Apparently my brain is always on a film set.
My brain needs to learn that real life is not a movie.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment