I SAW A STRANGE NOTE IN ONE OF THE LUNCH BAGS—AND NOW I CAN’T STOP GOING BACK
I first noticed the table during my walk to the library. Just a folding table with paper bags and a handmade sign: “FREE LUNCH FOR ANYONE WHO NEEDS.”
It was sweet, really. Kind. Someone trying to help in this messy world. I didn’t think much of it the first time. But a week later, after skipping breakfast and realizing I only had $2 in my account, I gave in and grabbed one. Peanut butter sandwich, apple slices, little granola bar. Nothing fancy, but it hit the spot.
The next day, I took another. And then another.
But last Friday, when I opened the bag on a bench across the street, something fell out with the sandwich. A note. Folded up, written in messy blue pen.
It said, “If you’re reading this, I think we’re connected in more ways than you know.”
No name. No contact. Just that.
At first, I thought maybe it was some motivational thing. But then it happened again two days later—different bag, different message.
“You used to live on Linden St, didn’t you? Near the blue house?”
My stomach dropped. That’s where I grew up.
Now I’ve been going back every morning, 11 a.m. sharp. Pretending it’s just for the sandwich, but really, I’m hunting for the next clue.
And today, I found another note. It only said one thing.
“I think I’m your sister.”
I haven’t told anyone. Not yet. But tomorrow, I’ll be there again.
Same time. Same table.
This time, I’m leaving a note of my own.
