The Black Suitcase

Last winter I was walking in a wooded area near my home when I came upon a medium sized black suitcase. As I live very close to the border I assumed that it had been left by an asylum seeker.  Where had this person come from? Was it a man or a woman? Where were they going? Where were they now?  Why had the case been abandoned? I lifted the case and decided to take a peek inside but immediately felt like I had trespassed on the owner’s privacy so I quickly zipped it up.
It felt strange to leave it there but it felt stranger to try to remove it. It was upsetting to think that someone had been separated from their few possessions while surely seeking refuge. Later that day I told my story to a friend who suggested donating the contents to a charity. It seemed like a good idea but something kept me from going back to get it, as it felt wrong to be interfering with someone’s belongings. Still curious, I did go back to check on the case a few days later and it was gone. I was relieved that I had not moved it. I had come close to someone in a difficult situation without meeting them or knowing anything about them, except that probably all their worldly possessions had spent a few days in the woods about 100 metres from my  home. 

Ann