One look at his ragged clothes and unkempt hair, and I know what he wants. I stiffen up, not feeling particularly sympathetic.
I had a nasty run-in with a beggar just a short week ago. While walking past a shoplot, I was stopped by a man in his 50s. He accosted me with an outstretched bowl. “I’ve not eaten for two days, miss,” he trotted out his sob story before I could react.
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