Coincidence

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Coincidence
I was still groping around my mind for an answer. The past couple days have just been full of quirky coincidences. The club. The wallet. The anagram. It was like those days when you run into five people you haven’t seen for ages – all in the same day. It was like the one day you forget your keys was the one day the superintendent was on a fishing trip. I was in the club the same day that Mr. Warton died. Mr. Dawson was talking about anagrams and the one anagram he pick just happened to be “Refugees forgot”.

Just coincedences, right? Or was it fate? Was there are reason for all of this to happen? Was there are reason Mr. Warton had to die? Was there a reason he gave me his wallet? Was there a connection between senator George Stouffer and the late Mr. Warton? Did they know each other? Or maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe I was just imaging things that really weren’t there.

A part of me couldn’t believe that only a couple days ago I was chased out of a night club by a raving murderer. I couldn’t believe that a man had died in front of me and gave me his wallet. It just kept gnawing at my mind. I had no idea what to do. I had no idea where to start. At the same time, I was worried. Would I be caught by that murderer? Would he want to kill the only witness? Would I end up like Mr. Worton?

I browsed through the daily news in hope that they would clear out some of the dark thoughts that were cluttering my mind. There were updates about the war, the election, and other random tidbits of information. I couldn’t resist looking up more information about George Stouffer. I already knew that he was a senator. Recently, he had been lobbying support for legislation that would crack down on organized crime. Perhaps he had become the target of some criminal organization. But maybe I was just grasping at thin air. I was still completely clueless.

I just sat gazing out the window as I toyed with one of the keys in Mr. Warton’s wallet. The events lazily wafted through my mind as I tried to arrange them into some semblance of order. If only I knew more.

Someone caught my attention, a group of muscular guys were heading towards the building. One of them carried a crowbar.