Just after midnight I stepped out to look at the moon and a woman arrives, walking, with blood on her face. She is maybe 25 or so and seems drunk. Despite temperatures in the low 20s she is wearing a green T-shirt and light black jacket, both of which are also stained red with some blood. She asks for a cigarette.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"Yes," she says, and starts crying.
"What happened to you?"
"Nothing."
"Did you fall down?"
"No."
"Did someone hit you?"
Her crying grows into heavy sobbing.
She tells me that her boyfriend hit her so she left their apartment and walked down to the store. I invite her to come inside, get warm, have some coffee, wash the blood off and offer to call the police. She begs me to not call the police. About then, a regular custumor -- who is a very nice guy -- pulls in and sees us, still standing out in the parking lot, and offers to help in anyway he can. She asks if he can give her a ride up South Hills a half-mile to her mother's house.
And so he does.
The incident still haunts me: Did I do the right thing? Should I have called the police?
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