At the police station
So I was standing at the counter of the police station today, filling out forms for the dent some hit-and-run driver left in my car. There was a guy standing next to me, also doing some paperwork. I didn't think anything of it, not even when the policewoman handed him a big clear plastic bag of stuff.
He started going through the bag, and only then did I notice that she was writing in a book that said "Prisoner Log," and that the stuff she had given him was his personal possessions. "My earring's missing," he complained, and the woman helped him find it. He started walking towards the door, no more hurried than someone who'd just stopped in to inquire about a traffic matter. But I realized that whatever he'd been through, he'd just gone through a really bad time, and perhaps now was at the end of it. As he walked through the door, out into the crisp, cold morning sun, I thought maybe he was walking into a new beginning, as well.
He started going through the bag, and only then did I notice that she was writing in a book that said "Prisoner Log," and that the stuff she had given him was his personal possessions. "My earring's missing," he complained, and the woman helped him find it. He started walking towards the door, no more hurried than someone who'd just stopped in to inquire about a traffic matter. But I realized that whatever he'd been through, he'd just gone through a really bad time, and perhaps now was at the end of it. As he walked through the door, out into the crisp, cold morning sun, I thought maybe he was walking into a new beginning, as well.
1 Comments:
he may have been through a bad time
he may have done some bad stuff
it is good to be compassonate
a friend told me a story the other day...
his car was hit in a parking garage
there was a note
the note read
"I am only leaving this note because 12 people are watching me"
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