Suddenly, my breath caught in my throat as I swerved to miss a body lying half on the sidewalk, half in the road. I passed the prone man and slowed, finally pulling over to the side of the road at the bottom of the bridge, battling within myself whether to get out or keep going.
This was before cell phones, mind you, so there was no way to call for help within the safe, warm comfort of my car. I had to make a get-your-hands-dirty – or not – decision on the spot. I’ll admit I didn’t want to stop. I was bone tired and gnawingly hungry. And I was wearing my brand new lacy white Christmas blouse; I sure didn’t want to mess it up.