As I promised my dear friend… the pseudo-continuation to your tale…..
It’s always amazed me how a faded slab of leather could be the keeper of so much personal information. Just by prying into it you would know my hair is a mousy brown, that my birthday is the same day you’ll end up getting pinched if you fail to wear green, and that I always eat the same meal, unaccompanied at Applebee’s. I looked down at the unfaithful piece of rubber next to my feet and squinted through the obnoxious rain pellets that bombarded me. Fuck the car; I needed to get my wallet back.
“What if they find out?” I heard them say. They were back, the voices, my constant companions in times of crisis. I was sure I had to retrieve my wallet at any cost.
The whizzing and sloshing of cars as I proceeded on my way drowned the voices into a slow, monotonous hum. I knew they were watching, studying me, wondering. I wrapped my denim jacket tightly around my body. It was no shield from the rain, but I felt safe. I could not let them see my fear. I lowered my head not worrying about the long wet strands of hair that tickled my nose.