Early One Morning, Just as The Sun was Rising.

The old guy was down by the bins again this morning; I hadn’t seen him for a long time and I told him so.

‘I’ve seen you though’ he replied.

That was a little unsettling, but I let it ride and set about smashing bottles in the bottle bank.

“Do you want this suitcase?” He suddenly asked.

“I don’t know; do I want this suitcase?  I replied, genuinely unsure. I hadn’t planned a suitcase event that day, or any time soon.

‘It’s a nice suitcase,” he explained and held it up for me to see.

It was still early in the morning and the rays of the rising sun bathed the suitcase in a providential glow.

It was a classic suitcase, not old, not new – timeless. A simple chequer pattern the corners reinforced with metal supports and a handle that looked like a type of late Bakelite.

“It’s made for travelling”, he said.

‘I like travelling”, I mumbled. I was mumbling because I was thinking. It was a nice suitcase; clean, compact and with an air of expectation which was difficult to define.

“It needs a sticker”, he said as I took it from his hands to inspect.

“And initials’.

“I have some initials “, I said, perhaps unnecessarily.

But much of the morning so far had been unnecessary.

“Here, take this”. The old boy handed me something.

I put the suitcase down on the floor, next to my feet as if I was waiting for the bus and opened the packet he had given me.

Inside were three stickers.

Stickers like you would see on the side of a suitcase well-travelled.

The first said San Francisco and had an image of the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset.

The second said New York, I love You.

The third was an image of a geyser gushing with the legend Iceland.

I looked at the old Boy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I looked at the suitcase and I saw the initials T.A. engraved next to the Bakelite handle.

I looked up and the bus door opened.