Lost and FOUND
Today it was raining hard. Brinnington Street was awash and the road drains were hungrily sucking in whirlpools of water. Martina looked ahead, keeping her chin down to prevent water getting under the hood of her cagoule. She counted the paces between the drains to pass the time – Brinnington Street doubled in length when it rained.
A pair of boys hurtled towards her on scooters and Martina knew they would shoot water up her jeans as they passed. Kids didn’t care about the weather, whereas 56-year-old women did, especially after a long day at work.
Sure enough, the scooters sliced along the pavement and walls of water rose up. She looked down, observing how the blue of the soaked denim was now almost indistinguishable from the grey of the pavement.
She was used to unflattering photos of herself
Martina had stepped away from the kerb to avoid the scooters, and was beside a low wall. On it, lay a credit card. She picked it up and sighed. Now she’d have to contact the owner – it was
