Tragedy in Spain

Have you seen me?

Yesterday was like any other in Valencia, the only difference from my normal routine was that it was raining on my way home so I opted to take a bus. I got on, swiped my card, and sat down. Not until the next day, again in the rain, did the terrible truth come to light. I got on the bus and reached in my wallet for my fare card. Gone. It had somehow disappeared. I paid the 2€ fare in coin and took a seat on the almost empty bus.

I ransacked my backpack like the cops searching Pablo Escobar’s carry-on luggage. Nothing. Where in the blue blazes was my fare card? Where could I have possibly put it? How could it have escaped from the confines of my wallet which I keep in a zipped pocket in my backpack?

The mystery haunted me for the entire ride to my stop. When I got home I checked the pockets of the pants I had worn the night before and everywhere I could possibly think of in my apartment. It had been officially missing now for over 24 hours. Should I call the police? I felt a bit like the parent of one of those kids on milk cartons, except those folks didn’t lose money on their raw deal. I had just renewed my card for 10 bus trips and there were still 9 metro fares left as well. This was a real material loss, not just a parting of sentimental ways and one less mouth to feed.

I garner no hope of a joyous reunion, like in some Disney movie about a dog who runs away from home. My card is gone. I can only hope that it found a good and needy home.