I sit inside my enclosure- gloomy windows drawn to prevent the world from shattering my presumed privacy, and then, suddenly, comes a wail, a plea for mercy as hands, dirty palms spread before me knocking on stained glass, knocking for entry into my world of generosity.
Even as the traffic lights prepare to change I sit glum "I know these people" I say. "They are all frauds" I say again. The plea goes on and on, cool breeze blows in gently, and I am off, ignoring the pleas and wails.
Was that a person really in need? Was my deed indeed faultless?