A woman fell outside the coffee shop. She was fifty, give or take a few birthdays. Dark red blood ran down her forehead after the result of her knees giving out. She lied on the pavement. She didn't move aside from an occasional moan and still breathing movements. The sun was everywhere. Due to the lack of gas in the city there were less cars passing by to slow down and grab rubbernecked stares.

My co-worker rushed out with ice and rags. He also grabbed the only first aid kit we had in the shop. It had a dusty jacket on it and it remembers Reagan being president. The band-aids all crushed at the top told me they believed in trickle down economics, but now they had their doubts. I told them it was too late, the damage had been done. They said they would try to help mend the wounds of the lady.

I stayed in the shop to deal with the mob of gender specific and non-specific suits demanding lattes while they speed dialed. Each person said the same thing upon getting a drink.

"Have you called for help about that lady?"

"My co-worker has. I think."

"Well you should be doing more to help her. There is a lot of blood," each of them said while their lips smacked and cracked the foam off their lips.

Once the line faded I went outside. The gender specific and non-specific suits were all standing around the lady. They said nothing. They drank, they dialed, they digested. I went back and cleaned the espresso machine until the ambulance showed up.