I brought a pizza order to a senior citizen. The moment I walked into her freezing, unlit residence, I knew she needed help. Therefore, I made a choice I believed would assist her. I never anticipated she would stare right at me moments later and declare, “You are to blame for this.”
The spring breeze that evening was biting.
And waiting on that rear porch, I already sensed that this particular drop-off felt off.
The residence lacked any lights, and the lawn was completely untamed. I balanced a giant meat pizza in one palm and held my mobile device in the other, verifying the details just to ensure I hadn’t arrived at the incorrect address.
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