Bystander Effect

One of these days I’m going to leave this two-bit crumby apartment. I thought I had raised my children right, but after they grew up and became doctors and lawyers they stopped coming around. Then,  my husband passed away. For two years I worked at the convenience store just at the end of Griffith  street for a meager paycheck and three gun-point robberies a year. This old lady doesn’t intend to make a fuss, you take what God gives you whether it is green earth or the filthy streets of New York City. It wasn’t, though, where I wished to live, not in a rubbish-hole of an apartment complex that charged too damn much; pardon my French. But that night God showed me something about people and perhaps that was why I was there. I’m not sure why he showed me this thing. I’ve always held it as a terrible…