* It was in Paris busy streets. I wore a t-shirt and shorts but everybody wore heavy winter clothes. It was windy and I was afraid of catching cold. I heard my name mentioned and turned around to find an old friend of mine with a fortyish lady (tall and big). He introduced her to me and asked us to talk business. I was distracted because I noticed a pile of coats thrown in the street. I left my friend and the lady and hurried to search the pile. I found 3 lost pieces of my clothes (old green raincoat, denim and gray sweater). They were clean and wrinkled like they have been just washed. I first doubted that the sweater belonged to me, but when I found an old mark on it, I realized it was mine. I went back to my friend and the lady holding the 3 pieces, but by then I felt really disinterested about them.
* I came back home and just before opening the door, I noticed someone trying to break in from the kitchen window. He saw me and started to run away in the garden. The garden had a big banana tree. It was easy to catch him before he tried to jump over the fence. It was as if he did not bother to resist. It seemed that he had an accomplice waiting somewhere. The accomplice ran away. I started to feel a bit compassionate because the guy looked young with an innocent face. I handed him over to the cops though and they took him away in a bus. After their departure, I had ambiguous mixed feelings of remorse, compassion and dsappointment.
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