About a month ago, I lost the biggest thing yet. I had recently finished an eight-page essay
that I was quite pleased with. It had
taken much determination to sit down and write, and forming my argument had
been a challenge for me. Our home printer
wasn’t working. I left the file on my
flash drive and decided I’d print it out at school. When I arrived, the first thing I did was
stride over to the library to find a computer.
I typed in my password and checked my front pocket of my purse for the
flash drive.
It wasn’t there.
I dug deeper into the pocket.
Nothing.
I felt around inside the
pocket again and again. Panic seized my
heart as I searched my second bag, emptied my entire purse out, checked my
front pocket again, checked my other bag again.
Gone. The full force of that fact
hit me. The only copy on my flash
drive. All eight pages of my hard work. There was no way I would be able to replicate
it all, and it was due within an hour.
I felt sure that I left it
behind on the bus, and I decided that I would catch the bus on its way out of
town to see if it was still sitting on the seat. I wasn’t sure if it would be the same bus,
but I thought I’d take that risk. I
called my mom while I waited at the bus stop.
At first it was for comfort, until I thought to ask her to check her
car. She had taken me to the bus stop
that morning. It could have fallen out
onto the car floor. I had to wait a few
minutes for her to walk to her car and check.
She tried to calm me down , and I tried to ignore the growing fear that
I had lost it forever.
“I found it, I found it!” she
called through the phone.
The tears that I had been
holding back flooded out, but these were tears of relief. I tasted their sweet saltiness on my
tongue. I’d have my flash drive back
soon, my paper would be safe, and my grade would be fine.
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