@lostgabi - modern au
Martin had taken three carefully framed shots of the dabbled sunlight on the park bench before it registers that the distracting dark shape lying on it is a wallet. He cries out softly and snatches it up. There was a young woman here a moment ago, wasn't there?
He stands up and looks around. He spots her lithe figure on the bridge. He remembers that shirt, and her cascade of dark hair. He jogs in her direction, grasping the camera on its strap to his side.
He slows down as he comes closer, suddenly self-conscious. He pulls his messy black curls behind his ear, but there is nothing he can do about the worn cargo pants or the black Rainbow Warrior hoodie, or his skinny sunburnt arms with their faded tattoos. He calls to her from a safe distance, wallet held out before him.
"Miss, excuse me--I think this is yours."
