I blinked the rain from my eyes. The world around me came back into focus. A woman brushed past me texting on her phone, her hair stuck down to the sides of her head from the rain. A homeless man sat on the ground, using his sign to shield himself from the rain, still holding out his can of change, hoping for a donation from any kind soul. An ambulance sped by, forcing a drove of annoyed drivers off of the road temporarily. People who were late to work, people who were going to see a friend they hadn’t seen in a while. Tens of people too busy getting where they were going to think about the chance for which they were pushed off the road..  A chance to save a life, or maybe to start one, you can’t ever be sure. That giant white box screaming down the street, kicking up puddles of rain. It could hold a pregnant woman about to give birth to her first child; it could hold a man desperately clutching his side to keep what was inside of him, inside of him; it could hold a person long since dead, paramedics rushing around with desperation in their eyes and hearts like a hornets’ nest pitched into a pond by a brave toddler, doing everything they can to bring this person back. Those tinted, rain-covered windows forbid any knowledge of whose life may be saved, or taken. The rain was stinging my eyes. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t keep it out.