Encounters tend to be brief, as I go from place to place, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re trivial. Met a guy this morning, in Bitts Park, Carlisle, who was walking two lively spaniel dogs. He got the dog when he lost his job, he said, and walks it every day. Today he was walking his neighbour’s dog too, and trying to keep their leads untangled. He had to hold both leads in one hand; he held out the other hand, which had stitches from the palm almost to the elbow. “Tendonitis”, he said, and hoped we’d meet again.
Ten minutes later, a man approached me, very hesitantly, on the street. “Could you…”, he said, and his voice trailed away. I gave him a pound, and he burst into tears. “I just wanted 60p”, he said. “I need to phone my dad, and I don’t have a mobile. It costs 60p to make the call, and everybody I’ve asked has just walked away”. He collapsed against the wall, and sobbed. I stayed there, in case he wanted to talk, but, after a minute, I shook his hand and walked away…
No comments:
Post a Comment