Yesterday, as I was walking home I spied a black Jansport tossed into the bushes alongside a main road. The backpack was obviously stuffed to the brim with something. I stopped for a minute to consider my options. It felt like a gameshow. Behind door number one could be a slew of options: a bundle of interesting letters and photos I could voyeuristically enjoy, tons of pot, money I'd wrestle with taking home, a human head, a gun, a baby, a kitten, a pie, a basketball (I once got in trouble in elementary school for stuffing a basketball inside the backpack of a red-headed boy I despised...so I know these things happen).
My bet was on the grimmer of these choices. That's the problem with snooping like that--people don't usually throw back-packs filled with harmless objects out of windows. Perhaps as soon as I picked it up, a police duo would blindside me and arrest me for possession of THE WEED. Or maybe the human head would permanently alter my sanity. Or some hoodlums would begin to stake out in front of my house once they realized I had their stash of guns.
The polar route is that the backpack contained some case-concluding evidence that I could have turned in to the Durham police, perhaps catupalting my name out there is local hero territory, thus setting myself up for free meals at local restaurants, and a general glowing admiration in the wake all of my perambulating.
But instead of picking it up, I just left it there. Nice and cozy in its mystery and brush.
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