Yesterday I was walking down Pine Street behind a woman who was hand-in-hand with an adorable child. The woman was on her cell phone and obviously in a hurry. The child was young—two? three?—and was hop-running to keep up with the woman in that adorable, clunky way children do when they haven't yet figured out how knees work.
Now, there is a chance the child was pointing at the cigarette butt lying next to the money, or some other cool trash nearby. But probably she was pointing at the money. The money that I took. From her, a child.
So, am I a monster?