Feb 01
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Small, Ragged, Violet Bag

It was violet colored.

Just sitting there, helpless.

Without any purpose.

We picked it up.

It was heavy but I could tell that the contents inside were not.

I had to return it but there was no one around.

“Who could it belong to,” we asked each other.

The train had pulled up now but we couldn’t just leave it.

I opened the small violet bag and inside there were a few dollars.

I felt the weight of the 50 dollar bill in my pocket and thought, what if this is all they have?

My mom is already on the train holding the door for me.

“Come on!” she says in frustration.

“Hold on,” I call back.

I carefully reach into my pocket for the money that was meant for some new shoes.

I stare at Ulysses S. Grant, he stared right back at me as if to say, “Do it.”

So I did.

I heard my mom call to me extremely annoyed now.

I dash back on the train and take a seat.

As the train leaves, I look out the window at the small, ragged, violet perse.

Hopefully whoever left it comes back to find it.

They will see what I left.

Maybe they can buy themself dinner.

They would feel so happy and lucky.

That feeling I felt as the train pulled away from the station, was a feeling of true happiness and joy.

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