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The Wrong Suitcase
This is a work of fiction. The people and events are invented.
Daniel had been travelling for fourteen hours when he finally arrived at his hotel in Lisbon. He was too tired to unpack, so he just opened his suitcase to find his toothbrush. Instead, he found a pile of bright red dresses, a pair of dancing shoes and a large box of chocolates.
He stared at the suitcase. It was the same size, the same colour and the same make as his. But it definitely wasn't his. He must have taken the wrong one from the baggage belt at the airport.
Daniel's heart sank. His own suitcase contained his laptop charger and, more importantly, the suit he needed for his sister's wedding the next afternoon. He looked for a name on the bag. On a small tag, he found a phone number and the name Inês Rocha.
He called the number, feeling a little embarrassed. A woman answered immediately. “Please tell me you have my suitcase,” she said. She had spent an hour at the airport, trying to explain the problem at the lost luggage office. She was a dancer, she told him, and she had a performance that night. The red dresses were her costumes.
Half an hour later, a taxi stopped outside the hotel. Inês jumped out with Daniel's suitcase, and they swapped bags on the pavement, laughing with relief. To say thank you, she gave him two tickets for her show.
Daniel almost said no. He was exhausted. But something made him go. That evening, he sat in a small theatre and watched Inês dance in one of the red dresses he had seen a few hours earlier. Apart from the wedding, of course, it was the best moment of the whole trip.
On his way home, he bought a bright yellow luggage tag at the airport. He has never picked up the wrong suitcase since.