She teetered on the ledge, three stories up. Her tattered nightgown flapped like moths making for the moon. We all gasped when she dangled her dirty, bare sole. I felt a responsibility. Guilty, almost. And utterly powerless. I positioned myself beneath her, as if to catch her, but a policeman pushed me back.
When the woman behind me shrieked, I put my head down and looked at the concrete pavement. No more could be done, so I started walking. Kept on walking. Looking back over my shoulder, I hoped the mess she made would cover the one I made of her.