Once, I was walking with a friend on a bustling street. The crowd was dense, and the air was filled with noisy music.
We walked arm in arm, chatting and laughing about current fashion trends and celebrity gossip.
At that moment, an older woman came into my view.
She appeared to be in her forties, looking haggard and overweight. She wore inexpensive clothes that seemed ill-fitting, her hair was tied up messily, and her eyes were vacant. She was constantly handing out flyers to the passersby.
She handed out flyer after flyer, but people waved their hands frantically, rejecting her as if she were a monster.
Desperate, she hurriedly grabbed a man in a sharp suit. The man tried to break free and pushed her away. Just then, the crowd behind them surged, and without realizing it, she fell to the ground.
With a heavy thud, her bulky body collapsed.
Flies of flyers scattered in the air.
The crowd gasped. Some laughed, others walked around her. From start to finish, no one was willing to help her up. Finally, with a flushed face, She endured the pain and struggled to push herself up amidst the noise.
She straightened her messy hair, dusted off her clothes, and wobbled as she bent down to pick up the flyers that had been trampled underfoot.
For a moment, I almost wanted to rush over to help. My friend noticed my intention, held me back, and said coldly, "Women like that probably didn't know how to endure hardship when they were young, which is why they ended up in this situation. Don't help her; it's none of our business."