I should have gone back.
I should have at least given some money, or something.
I'm not rich by any standard but I have got some cash.
I could afford it.
And frankly, I've got two functioning hands, which was more than he had.
I came down to the tube platform in the middle of a wave of people, all going in the same direction.
Going with the flow, so to speak.
At the bottom of the steps a guy caught my eye.
No, Binky, not in that way...
I looked to my left and before me was a guy who was noting more than a husk of a human being.
A burns victin of some decription, the skin around the face was pulled and twisted.
And kinda melted.
His features were unrecognisable, what was left of his hair was hidden under a baseball cap.
And his hands.
His hands were not there, he clasped a colecting tin in the bony stumps of his arms.
I heard him say that he was collecting for....something.
I didn't hear the details.
And then he was gone as I swept away with everybody else and before I knew it I was on a train bound for Mile End.
But what I had seen stayed with me for a few hours and is still with me.
Here was this guy - this victim - putting himself in front of commuters/travellers and asking them for money.
He didn't let the reations of passers by stop him from collecting money to help others.
And I should have gone back.
I should have given something, I should have acknowledged his bravery with some cash and a warm smile.
But like a schmuck, I didn't.
Fuck.
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