Thanks for all the comments regarding the posts since I've come back online. I'm glad everyone got to see what the Faceless One will find in my wallet before the morgue attendant, and Sid has given some thought towards a similar post. Well, this post is one I should have made months ago, but I need to do it now before the briefcase is given back to the Salvation Army. I had purchased this now somewhat beaten up satchel for a buck forty at the local SA when I had a temp job on the far northside. It was in pristine condition, the kind of thing you find at apartment sales or even estate sales. One day, I noticed a lower pocket below the one I kept my bus schedules in, and I unzipped it, expecting to find nothing. Rather, there was one folded piece of paper, still crisp. I am only assuming it belonged to the owner of the briefcase. It was a letter with lab results stating that the 29 year old man had an inoperable brain tumor. It made me wonder if this is why the briefcase was in such excellent condition; of course, now it is ragged, after two winters and being dragged along almost each of the last 700 days. I bought a backpack, because I really don't need a briefcase when I no longer wear a suit and tie to work, and a backpack allows me to run for the bus (or from zombies) (or Sternberg) without getting out of breath. And so the briefcase gets recycled, yet still I wonder if the original owner ever made it to the age of 30. There are always things I end up thinking way too much about.
