Michael had quite the adventure on the ride home last night.
I kept my eyes on the seizing man. I was the entire length of the car from him. As I walked back, I saw everyone who had been close to him move away. I heard a few women offering muffled somethings, not quite screams or words. I thought of an experiment I read about in one of those psych classes by a guy named Zimbardo. I thought about a woman in New York who had lost her life after being stabbed seventy times. She screamed but dozens of people, some sitting in their windows and others walking up and down the lane from her, thought everybody else was going to do something about it.
David W. Swanson 