Every once in awhile, I hear a voice telling me to do something. Yesterday, it said “Help them.” I took an unusual route home from work yesterday, as I had a pile of bills I wanted to mail and had forgotten to swing by the post office that’s right next to work as I left. Ever lazy, I went to the only other drive up mailbox I could think of, which is downtown, and requires going around several blocks in a dizzying maze of one-way streets and leaves me heading the opposite direction of home when I’m done… But still. Drivethrough. So there I was, next to our lovely downtown mall on a sunny day and I noticed a couple cross the street in front of me. Dreadlocks. Guitar. Black hat. Tattoos. Dog. “Help them.” This has happened before. I drove forward as the light turned green and they kept going down the block in the opposite direction. I had the usual argument with myself: “I have to work.” “They might be dangerous.” “What could I possibly do?” And then I swung around the b