One can speculate wildly about someone when you find their wallet in the middle of the road. The cards, the bits n bobs make me feel like a Clairvoyant. I flinched when I thought of the odd selection of things in the wallet I lost a few months ago. My favourite picture of my daughter :( , bits of snapped toothpick, a What To Do If Arrested information leaflet (I’ve never had to use :) ), a very out of date prophylactic, and a library card, alongside the maxed debit card and my driving licence.

The found wallet wasn’t so damning. A casino card was the only sin. A young Muslim man, a student in London, home for the summer. Address, yes. Right, I’ll get on my bike and pop it round. Not too far.

8.30, in the dusk, with no bike lights, I’m lost on the estate, scaring old ladies walking their terriers. One tutted me. I could nearly hear her: ‘A man of his age playing silly buggers on a bike!’

I found it. A peaceful, grassy area. On the left was a celebration or party, with resplendent clothes and smiles, spilling calmly out of the front door onto the grass, petals on the ground. On the right was the house I was looking for, windows open, daughters watching the festivities from windows. Everybody is happy and curious, both houses full of light and life.

I felt like a hyena among gazelles.

Leant my bike up against the wall and knocked on the door.

A flurry of headscarves through the wavy glass, a whirl of colour, the door opens, a little. Eyes. I apologised for disturbing them so late and hand it over – a brief explanation - a thank you with a smile – and I’m gone.

The collective sigh of relief was like a little push on my back.
CrookedMan CrookedMan
46-50
1 Response Aug 19, 2014

Thank you, I enjoyed that.