Travel and time changes left me with no sleep and a body that moved with little to no conscious effort. It knew the list of things my mind had laid out.
Waiting in line for a train ticket home, I tried to function appropriately. Peripherally, I saw a slight man hobble, one person to the next, speaking low, one hand grasping the support he needed to walk and the other motioning to his mouth, a universal language for eat, food, hungry.
Without thought I mimicked others with a shake of my head.
“Não Portuguese…” I stumbled to say, brain processing slow.
He moved on as my mind processed my actions and my hand dug into a small pocket past a single paper and into the coolness of metal.
I motioned him back. Holding his outstretched palm, I deposited the five or eight euros.
What was that amount to me? My next week’s groceries is his meal today.
