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brigidMirrored from brigidkeely.com/wordpress.
They look like ordinary people: business men, children, homeless people, neighbors, barristas. They will ask you for something innocuous: a glass of water, to use your phone, a ride to the train station. Something about them will feel off, wrong, threatening. You will find yourself terrified of them. They will ask again, pleading. They only want something to drink; they only want to call someone for help; they only need a small favor. It’s always a small thing.
You may relent. You may give them what they want. A glass of water. Use of your phone. A ride. When you do, all the threat will evaporate from them. Their faces will take on a peaceful, beatific look. They have been reaching out, trying to connect with another human, for years; maybe for decades. Maybe longer. They have finally been heard, their need has finally been met.
The next day, you will ask somebody for a glass of water, to use their phone, for a lift to the train.
You will not be able to rest until your need is met.
