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I found an Airline this afternoon around 2:20 p.m. while walking along Weber Avenue near the Downtown Stockton Transit Center. It was lying on the curb by a bench outside the arena entrance, a crinkled tag with a faded airline logo. It looked like a small luggage tag or badge someone might carry while traveling. I am sure the rightful owner will be relieved to hear it is found and safe.
Last Friday around 6:15 PM, I realized my brooches were missing from my coat pocket while I was leaving the Miracle Mile in downtown Stockton. They’re a small pair: one silver with a tiny pearl and one gold with a turquoise accent, both slightly worn from years of wear. I retraced steps along the sidewalk by the Stockton Arena and checked the benches at the coffee shop near the waterfront, but the trail went cold. They’re incredibly sentimental to me, a grandmother’s heirloom small enough to fit in a palm, and I’m hoping someone who found them kept them safe until I can get them back.
I lost my pocket watches on Tuesday, around 4:15 PM, along Pacific Avenue near the Miracle Mile in Stockton. I had stopped to check a map and wind one of them, and I must have left the pair on a bench outside a coffee shop. By the time I realized they were gone, I’d already walked a couple blocks away and the street was busy with shoppers. These watches mean a lot to me—they were passed down from my grandfather and carry a small engraving on the back that makes them feel like a piece of him. I feel unsettled without them, hoping someone picked them up and kept them safe until I can find them.
On Friday night, around 6:45 PM, I realized my stack of DVDs was missing from my messenger bag while I was in the Stockton Main Library cafe on Weber Avenue. The case is a blue plastic one with a white "Movie Night" sticker and a small doodle of a heart I drew in red last year. I likely set the bag down at a table near the reference desk to print something, then stepped out briefly and must have left without it. Those films are a mix of indie titles and a couple of family favorites, and one pack is out of print; I feel anxious and hopeful at the same time, like a small piece of my evenings is gone but could still be found.
I was grabbing coffee at a shop on Center Street around 9:15 this morning and headed toward Weber Ave when I realized my driver's license was missing. I retraced my steps along Center Street and into the nearby bus-stop area near the Downtown Library, but I couldn't find it. The license is a standard card with my photo and name, and it has a small dent from a spill last year. If found, I would be grateful for any help in returning it.
I lost my Avians, and my heart sank when the sun dipped behind the foothills. At around 6:15 p.m. on Sunday, the gate to the backyard aviary on Weber Avenue was ajar and my Avians were gone. I live near Victory Park on the Miracle Mile in Stockton, and last I saw them they fluttered toward the park's willow trees. They’re small, bright, and friendly—one lime-green with a hint of yellow on the head, the other a touch more blue on the wings. The thought of them wandering alone through the streets keeps me anxious all night.
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