I Found a Wallet in a Bar – Inside Was a Childhood Photo of Me
I went into the bar that night expecting nothing more than a quiet drink and an early exit. One beer, a little silence, then home. I was having the kind of night where you want your thoughts to soften at the edges. The bartender nodded at me. “Same as usual?” “Just a beer,” I said. I drank slowly, barely paying attention to the muted TV or the scattered conversations around me. When I stood to leave, my shoe nudged something on the floor. A wallet. It was worn brown leather, old and clearly used for years. No one nearby seemed to be looking for it. I should have handed it straight to the bartender. Instead, I opened it, telling myself I was just looking for an ID. Inside were cards, receipts, some cash—and a photo. It was small, creased, folded too many times. A child stared back at me with crooked bangs, an awkward smile, and a faint birthmark near the eyebrow. It was me. My throat tightened. I flipped the photo over, searching for an explanation. There was not...