On the greyhoound I had been sitting beside an alert, clean-cut, tall man. His hair was gelled tall. His long face with flat plains. He was folded into the seat behind the driver, 2 bags at his feet on the floor. His voice had the beginning of rasp from smoking, pronounced in someone so young but maybe it was just the quality of his voice. He had one a backpack, one a soft-sided brown briefcase. I was starting to regret that he'd continue on after where I'd get off.
My connection. I took out my bag from under the seat. he already was talking with the guy in the seat behind him. I entered a mall. There were a flurry of kiosks. There would be a route down to other kinds of transit here somewhere. A wheel squeak and a woman's heels came pushing a three-seater baby stroller. They passed on my left. The front seat had a tiny white newborn with the newborn clench fixed on the short string of a cookie-sized balloon. The next seat was a baby, presumably around 9 months. It held onto a string of a balloon 3 times as big. The 3rd seat was empty, not even diapers.
Around then I fumbled for my keys and saw it had 2 brass keys on it. Not mine. I had a flash that the man on the bus and I had our wallets out at the same time. I turned and ran back to the bus. I boarded and it was the same one. I reached over and without explanation, unzipped his briefcase. I looked up at him. He smiled uncertainly. A sort of why, it's you again but what are you doing with my bag? I smiled back, took out his wallet, which was my wallet, saw it was also black. And bailed off the bus before it could leave with me on it.
Back in the mall I realized I got my wallet but I didn't give him back his. Had I just pickpocketed the man? But he seemed to consent with that greeting smile. Or at least he didn't protest. He could have said something or followed me off?
I sighed and turned and ran back to the bus again, wondering how much time passed. Would it still be there?
A greyhouse! I boarded it. I beelined for the seat. There was no driver. People were getting settled. I reached for under a backpack and realized those feet were different. I looked up and two young men, one asian with glint of silver earring stopped in mid-smile to wonder who this was rummaging thru his stuff at his feet. The other looked at me inquiringly. I bailed again, not explaining, not anything.
I had his wallet and keys to get into his mailbox where ever he was going. I didn't even know his name.
Upon waking I realized, I realized, I have his wallet. I have his address. I can mail it to him. I can make it better. I can stay in contact. No, that'd be creepy. I can just right ym mistake. I wanted to find where I put it. Then I remembered, that was a dream. Right, I can just relax then.
Reflections on publicity
1 week ago