There comes a time in one’s life when they are forced to evaluate their choices and see the many errors of their ways...

That moment came for me when, in one fateful clumsy moment, I knocked a large femur bone that had been sun bleaching on my 3rd story windowsill into my apartment's communal courtyard, prompting my Latino neighbours to query loudly in Spanish why a suspiciously human looking anatomical body part had fallen from the sky, and what unholy circumstance could have prompted this bizarre and unsettling scene to unravel before them.
This, I watched shamefully while leaning out of my window, regretting miserably the poor integrity of my window screen (almost as much I admired the integrity of the still-intact bone).

The walk of shame I had to endure to retrieve this item will rival any I have taken before or since. Oh what cruel fate dispensed as I tiptoed into the courtyard to retrieve my specimen, locking eyes with those wide-eyed stares peering at me through cracked blinds, offering only a pained grimace in response!

I am sorry, my friends, for disrupting your otherwise quiet Monday morning!
It was I who brought this ungodly scene to your witness!
It was I, squeaking out that strained and all too insufficient, "..sorryyyyyy!" as I slinked back into the shadows of the stairwell like some furtive creative to return to my apartment, bone in hand and baron in heart!
'Twas I who inspired the mutterings I am sure will now take place when this story, retold, inevitably warrants a mutter, "gringa loca..."
And I do not blame you, my friends, because you will not be wrong.
I can only hope you know I've seen the error of my ways (though I cannot promise you I will change them).