Riley’s Journal

The Lottery of Empathy – Post 2: Riley’s Journal

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

Day 6

I watched a man almost die today.

I don’t know if I’m supposed to write that. We’re not supposed to mention other people. But it happened, and I can’t unsee it.

He was right there—outside the café. I walked past him when I came in. Didn’t even glance at his face. He looked like the others—tucked into himself, garbage bag for a pillow, coat zipped all the way up. Invisible.

And then he wasn’t.

He was pale, his mouth turning blue. The paramedics moved like machines. I sat frozen with my stupid cup of coffee, trying not to cry.

Juno was next to me. Quiet. I think they knew him. Or maybe they’d seen something like this before. I hadn’t. Not this close.

Danny was across the room. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. Shannon was near the window—hood up. Our eyes met for half a second. She looked away.

I’m not supposed to know who else is in this. But I do. Or I think I do. And maybe they recognize me too. But we’re all playing dumb.

This was supposed to be a social experiment. Controlled. Eye-opening. But it feels more like punishment.

I thought I understood poverty. I thought I was “aware.” But I didn’t get the shame. The silence. The smell that sticks to your clothes no matter how hard you scrub.

I didn’t get the way people look through you—like a smudge on the sidewalk.

But I’m starting to. And I’ll never walk past someone like that again.

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