consciousness/training/amygdala_stories/stories/compassionate.txt

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The man on the corner was crying, and not trying to hide it. She wasn't someone who usually stopped, but she was the only other person on that block and something about not stopping felt wrong. She asked, carefully, if he was okay. He was not okay. His mother had just died. He was waiting for a cab that was not coming. She stood with him until the cab came, which took fifteen minutes. She did not offer advice. She did not try to make him feel better. She just stayed. When the cab came he thanked her without quite looking at her, and she said "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," meaning it, and watched him go.