Fog. Bread delivered. Then cycling home when my wallet falls again from the same cycling jacket I lost it from before.
I heard something hit the street. I heard a shout, why would be that for me? I had passed three street people, arguing – another public domestic. A woman waved me down, “You’ve dropped something!”
Brakes on and turning back to see one of the three walking in my direction, left hand held high with my wallet. I cycle back, “You dropped this.” he calls.
“Thank you so much. You’re a gentleman.”
“No problem, mate.” he continued on his agitated way.
I zip my wallet in properly this time, then I end up beside him waiting for a gap in the traffic to cross, where I reiterate my gratefulness in a less rushed manner. As I move off he looks more closely at my Pompey hat, checking that the blue and white is not of Ipswich Town. He may be a good Samaritan, but there are limits. The star & crescent of the island city give him reassurance that he had done the right thing, I hope.