It started as an effort to seek stillness and silence but quickly transitioned to a meeting of new, fast friends. Conversations of items lost and found, kept or returned. Connections made and contacts exchanged. “Goodnight” and “Nice to meet you” and “Get home safe” to “Here’s a cab; this one’s for you.”
Into the cab and return to stillness – interrupted – by the sight of crumpled cash on the seat. A fifty dollar bill! Then another. And one more still. Cash in hand before reality sinks in. It can’t be real. But this one’s not a dream.
Another scan and not one, not two but three more twenties. Six bills in full found one by one. Talk with the driver on what’s to be done.
Amazing sitch that made me rich. / Dear St. Anthony, please come around. Something’s lost and can’t be found.