She sat outside our auditorium.  She sat in a folding chair, practically doubled over as if she was in pain.  She rocked and rocked.  Little did I know that she had a gun in her purse.

[IMAGE: https://steemitimages.com/DQmeN9fnCwr6AfYKuR4Ds1UtjThgyQ3SCGCqQcTDJu76his/1.jpg]

She was deeply troubled.  She had been an alcoholic for many years. That night her eyes were bloodshot. I presumed she had been drinking.  I approached her and she said that she wanted to remain outside the auditorium in the hallway.
“I am not worthy.”