things weren't the same anymore

things weren't the same anymore

fiction
edward w pritchard

Sometimes when he was lost and confused like this it helped or at least was comforting to himself to slowly take stock of where exactly he was and what he carried on his person, in his pockets, what he was wearing,especially the shoes,  for he remembered specifically he wasn't to ask just anybody for assistance. Then forgetting everything he should know he walked up to a woman in the corridor and said "shoes"? She rushed off obviously upset.

a little later he checked his pockets.there was no wallet. that was upsetting for of course there should be a wallet,a fine one with say four tightly folded hundred dollar bills in the compartment near the drivers license and credit cards for emergencies. four dollar bills and an ironed white handkerchief, that's all he found. too bad there was no writing on the hanky for ID and if he found the wallet he could look at the drivers license or credit cards and look at the name to see who he was. Panicked he worried if he could read.
as he walked he thought sometimes people travel in disguise or incognito, he remembered that word easily when he needed to draw it up, from his subconscious,he remembered that too.