She was standing alone near the intersection across from a pawnshop. She appeared to be about 65, maybe older, wearing a long beige coat and dark sunglasses. Something about the way she stood — rigid and uncertain — made me stop.
I don’t know what it was, but something made me walk up to her, and that’s when I noticed that she seemed scared and confused. So, I asked if she needed help. “Ma’am?
Are you okay?” I asked. She didn’t move immediately. Just kept facing forward, straight past me like I wasn’t even there.
Then she said quietly, “Could you help me cross the street?”
