A crowd gathered around the fallen motorcyclist. Rumors and conjecture of what had happened flowed through the crowd like a current of electricity. The people furthest from the injured man were transmitting the most fantastic stories while those closest were most concerned with the actual well being of the man. The screech of sirens filled the air as the ambulance made its way towards the scene.
“Please make way for the paramedics” a deep voice shouted. The people in the back of the crowd were too busy gossiping about the incident to hear the command.
“Make way for the paramedics, now!” the voice shouted, this time even more forceful. There was no response from the back of the crowd.
The chief paramedic, whose disdain for humanity has grown and festered inside of him from two decades on the job, reached for his .380 auto sidearm he carried in his waist band. He aimed it at the sky and pulled the trigger three times.
A few people in the back looked back to see what was making it difficult to hear the fabricated story of what happened by the person beside them. One had the audacity to say “What´s the big idea?”
The paramedic went numb. A single thought went through his mind. Why should I help this victim for him to recover and become one of these people in the back of another crowd around another tragedy. He thought of the drunk drivers he fixed up only to see them again, in another accidents, drunk. He thought of the gang bangers that he patched up only to find them another time with another bullet lodged in them. He thought of the pedophile he saved after having being lynched by furious neighbors only to read about him being caught red handed destroying another young life.
He felt invisible. He felt powerless. He felt insignificant.
He raised the tiny pistol to his temple. He shook his head. Not this way, he thought. He then raised to pistol towards the man who questioned what he was doing. NO, he thought. He tucked the pistol back into his waistband. Not yet.
He decided to do what he knew how to do. He pushed through the crowed and saved another worthless life.
By Ryan 
A really unique response to the photo. Because it could be this, but it’s not the first thing which comest to mind.
Thanks! I am not satisfied with the picture. The story was written first and I scoured the interwebs for a picture of a crowd that felt right. I didn´t find one so I went with this one. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment.
It’s not easy finding words and images to fit together. I like the challenge of seeing what I can sketch or find in my random photographs. I do get stuck sometimes too!
Lives and professions become tedious… mundane when rote. I can feel and empathize with the guy. When one chooses a helping/healing line of work, it can take a toll. Glad he opted to wait another day.
Tell me about it. All though I have never got to this extreme, I have at least felt equally frustrated and demoralized! Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts!
Great writing! Brings out the emotions in the pictures and also the honour and respect of this profession!
Thank you very much for taking the time to read and comment! I am glad you liked it. I didn´t think while I was writing it about the honour and respect of the profession (which I agree is great) but I guess the piece does reflect this to an extent. This is why I love putting work out there. To see what others see in it. Thanks again!
I empathize with this character. This scenario kind of explains–while it doesn’t necessarily justify–why cops, doctors, and a number of other people in various professions can be douches, sometimes.
Hahahahaha! Any comment with a “douche” even if aimed at me gets my attention. I agree with you. I does not justify but you can see the “why”. Thanks for taking the time to read and an comment! Greatly appreciated.