My old wallet.
I lost my wallet near a mob that was working on a man.
I was bent on my knees, searching for the wallet as they kept working. I almost thought that I lost the wallet forever.
From the newspaper next-day, I learned that one man was lynched at Mango Street, 37° North to my office.
I went there, there wasn’t a thing left. I kept asking people, but nobody seemed to know anything. Apparently, the popcorn vendor has seen a man drenched in blood lying down near the pavement. But nobody else. I wouldn’t find the wallet, my inner voice said.
The CCTV wasn’t working, nobody in the street didn’t see anything. I returned without my wallet.
I wouldn’t find it again.