I'M SORRY

On my way to uni today, an old man with what to my untrained eye seems to be a case of Alzheimer's disease asked me, "Does this bus go to the Angel?" Smiling, I said no. "You need to take this bus here, the number 18, and change at Euston to a no. 30, 73 or 205". I doubt he heard me, and I doubted even more that he actually understood what I was saying. I offered to take him to the Angel, as I was heading there anyway. He didn't seem to understand me, but I didn't care, I really wanted to help him. I was determined to get him to Angel safely.

Somehow though, when he got on the number 18 bus, a number of people offered to help him out. I didn't want to impose myself upon others, and anyway I had already changed my mind about getting him to Angel, as I was late for Friday prayers and had to rush. So when we neared Euston, I jumped out of the bus and grabbed a bus behind it, the number 205, a bit guiltily I suppose, for abandoning the guy, but secure in the knowledge that somebody would help him out surely.

The bus was a bit slow, so the number 18 managed to arrive at its final stop before I passed it. When I eventually did go pass it, the old dishevelled man was standing there looking lost and terrified. I don't know whether he made it to Angel safely, heck, I don't even know why he was making the journey in the first place. Who was he seeing... friends? family? I hope he got to see them, and I hope they take good care of him.

I don't know you, old man, and I doubt you'd be reading this. But I have to apologise anyway, and as you can perhaps see, my train of thout is rather messed up at the moment; a pretty good indication of the guilt I feel inside. I could've helped you out, but I didn't. I'm sorry for being such a hypocrite, for complaining that the problem with humanity is that we just don't care about each other and yet leaving you alone on the sidewalks of Euston Square without knowing what to do or where to go. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.