"Excuse me! Hi. Sorry to bother you, but is that bag yours?" I smiled and asked the couple busy discussing some digital photography techniques. They looked at it and I knew it wasn't theirs.
"No, it must've been there before we got here I think, right?", the guy checked with the girl who nodded and asked "Is it yours?"
"Yeah, well, actually no. It's my coworker's. We were all in here a while ago, and after we left, she remembered, but my boss then called her up, so I told her to go ahead, and I said I'd get it back for her." I spoke with a few reassuring nods, a couple of eyerolls and immediately extended my open palm for the guy to instinctively pick it up and hand it over. I didn't give them any chance to think any more, and I quickly added "Thank you sooo much, sorry to interrupt you guys..." and grabbed it by the strap.
"Not at all." They both smiled politely to my "Thanks a lot." and got back to their discussion.
I wanted to rush out as quickly as possible, in case the bag did belong to someone else who'd come looking for it. I slung it over my shoulder, hanging it down across my chest and headed out.
The only place I knew was the fountain, so I almost ran and found a quieter corner away from last time. Still, the place was bustling with people around the subway station and the busy intersection.
The bag wasn't very heavy but it wasn't feeling empty either. I undid the buckle and lifted the top with a heartbeat getting heavier. What would I find? There was a zipper which I opened, then pulled the sides apart and looked inside.
There were a few folders tucked in neatly. then a paper notebook, plus a small Android tablet computer. Pen and markers.
I pulled the tablet out and turned it on. "Shit!" I said. It had been fully shut down so it booted into a password entry screen with a letters and number keyboard popping up. A full password was needed. Why password and not the usual Android number passcode or shape lines? The battery icon said it was almost fully charged. I powered it off and slipped it back into the bag.
I took out all the folders, placed them on my lap then checked the inside again. There were a couple of small pockets. One contained a chapstick, a lip liner, a breath freshener candy, a few flat packs of wet towels and a small vanity mirror. So this did belong to a woman, who I hoped, would be me. I ran my fingers inside the other pocket but all it produced were paper clips and stationery and a small porcelain figurine of a fantasy comic or book character which I didn't recognize. There was no wallet or any kind of identification card.
Then I noticed there was an inner pouch on the inside of the bag's cover flap. It did hold something small and hard but I couldn't find any opening. I tried to locate a zipper or a latch but there weren't any. The firmly sewn pouch didn't appear to be part of the bag's construction design as there was no reason for it to exist or to contain something for any purpose. I decided to get back to it later.
I then turned my attention to the folders sitting on my lap.
