Or at least, partially (if my neighbours were a lot more considerate about not letting their kid run in their house, I'd say it has been almost totally restored). Anyhow. Today I went for brunch with BS to the Nice Café. It's a nice neat little restaurant on 8th Avenue and (almost) Main.
We had (as we usually do) a great time. At some point, as it happens when I'm enthralled with the conversation with my friends, I must have pulled (inadvertently) my house keys off of my pocket. Since it was so cold, I didn't have my gloves nor toque, the sensibility of my fingers was minimal. Therefore, the keys fell off without me noticing.
When I got home, my keys were nowhere to be found, and of course, I panicked. I re-traced my steps, hoping that someone would have found my keys and left them at one of the places I had just been to. Well, lo- and behold, my keys were sitting in a small wedge on the corner of Broadway and Main.
I have to say that, while I am extremely grateful, am not so surprised. I have always had a good feeling about the neighbourhood, so finding my keys only came to reinforce that positive energy I get from here. Clearly, there are reasons to be grateful to The-Powers-That-Be, and I am indeed very very thankful. Hence why my faith in the world has been restored.
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Sometimes little things like that surprise me as well.
When I moved to Boston I was on the subway, "T", and sifting through my purse. When I got off at the station a questionable-looking guy started following me. Then he picked up the pace and came chasing after me - honestly I got a little scared until he said "you dropped this" and then sped away.
It was my wallet, which must have fallen out on the train when I was going through my purse. I looked inside and everything was still intact. It would have been devastating to lose it in a foreign city. After that day I trusted my second-home city a little more.
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