Broke

I parked my whike at a plaza facing the city hall’s arcade. It was Sunday at noon and a bunch of well-groomed kids were running down the street yelling “to the church, to the church”. When they noticed the whike, they stopped suddenly like forgetting where they were headed to. From a corner, a old man yelled “you’re running late!” I did not want to look to back to the man in order to avoid feeling the accusation.

I randomly chose a bar and got in. “Do you serve sandwiches? Yeah, what would you like? Before that, do you know if there is any ATM machine around? No ATM machines in the whole town, sorry. Oh I see—do you accept cards? I’m sorry we don’t—oh, I see. Don’t worry about it, you’ll pay me when you can, he said suddenly. When will I do that? When you can! When? When you come back! I don’t think I will come back anytime soon, I mean, I might not come back in a year or so….It’s okay, you’ll pay me when you can!—replied stressing every single word after hearing my objections.

It is safe to say that generosity is a wild plant that does not grow by exhorting; it is the chemistry, there is no doubt about it.

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