Leroy fell. His papers flew, littering the crosswalk. The people got out of their cars to help. A small army of strangers collected the papers mixing them into a pile in whatever order they fell. They didn’t understand that the pages were worthless without the order. They couldn’t know that the papers were not rightfully Leroy’s.
He thanked the people as best he could. They tried to help him to his feet but his left leg wouldn’t work. The security guard’s stick did a number on his knee. The mace put the guard in his place.
Then came the sirens.