The heat of the day catches everyone by surprise. At my second meeting a crowd has formed around a broken cycle courier. They are crying that a taxi has hit him. He is not moving at all.
The citizens of new york are good they cover him with their coats, they collect his belongings that are scattered everywhere. They angrily force traffic to make way for an ambulance. I see one old business man chasing the taxi driver down 6th Avenue.
I am sad, it reminds me of when I held a dieing man in my arms, stabbed and bleeding fast. A hot summers afternoon on the french riviere, cars passed slowly (so they could watch) and I asked one gawping driver for his shirt so I could plug the holes, he just shrugged and pulled quietly away.