7. bag.

matthew lost his bag. he was waiting for his wife at Chicago O'Hare international airport. he went outside for a second to breathe.
when he got back to his seat the bag had gone. no-one had stolen it. he knew no-one could have stolen it.
airports are not the best place to lose things.
after an hour of looking for it he gave up, although it contained that expensive perfume for his wife.

the reunion was a happy one.
on walking out of terminal 2 he saw his bag lying underneath the departures screen.
he walked up to the bag and lifted it up, looking inside. the perfume wasn't gone, neither was his newspaper or food.
inside was a note, written on the back of a parking ticket.
it read;

"trying to find something. trying to look. looking around. impress me. do something. pulled under. drowning."

"what does it say?"
his wife asked.
"nothing"
replied matthew
"just some crazy stuff"

he never threw the piece of paper away. years and years later. too many to remember. middle age had descended upon him. he went for a job promotion, his job was everything, what he lived for. he didn't get it.
when he got home he was angry, he took his agression out on his wife. his wife started to cry. he made the kids upset.
he slammed the living room door of his nice house, with the cream carpets. he took the old parking ticket out of a bedside drawer.
he could hear the kids crying.

he read the words again, sitting on his king-size bed. this time they made sense.
"pulled under. drowning"
he wispered.