1. This lady was approximately my mother's age (84).
2. She was dressed very smartly - light grey suit jacket, dark grey trim around the collar.
3. The trim on her suit matched the floor tiles.
3. Her face was also grey, desaturated, as if adjusted in Photoshop.
4. Her make-up (much more than my mum would wear) hadn't changed colour. It seemed to sit above the surface of her face.
5. The blood emerging on her hand and wrist - slowly, and thankfully not dangerously - created a visual relationship with the pasta sauce jars on the grey shelf that her hand reached over, upon the grey floor.
This was less than seconds. The lady was conscious throughout, impressively dignified and calm. She lay straight as a guard whilst we (two store workers and I) ensured she was okay, comfortable, bandaged and warm (it was cold; the milk section was to the side of us). An ambulance was called - just to be sure - and it then felt appropriate to leave. I edged away from the scene, wondering where in the rush I'd put my tomato soup.
I didn't take any photos, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind.
This is not to say I cared less, acted slower, or wanted to exploit her misfortune; I was just aware that as these events unfolded I noticed things, picturing them photographically.
Is that wrong?
I hope she is okay.