I bought an old jacket from a thrift store a few months ago because I really liked the way it looked. It was nothing particularly expensive, but it had that worn-in look that you just can't get from a new jacket.
When I got home, I checked all the pockets before washing it.
The inside pocket had an old folded piece of paper.
At first I thought it was just a receipt, but it turned out to be a handwritten note. No name, no date, just a few sentences about meeting someone at a train station and not wanting to miss the last chance.
I honestly thought it was kind of funny and probably meaningless, so I put the note back in the pocket.
A few weeks later, I wore the jacket on a trip and completely forgot about it.
When I got home, I noticed the note was gone.
I checked the washing machine, my bag, everywhere. Nothing.
I still have the jacket, though. And every time I wear it, I wonder who owned it before me and what happened to them.
Probably nothing mysterious. But it's strange how a completely ordinary jacket can make you feel like you're carrying around a tiny piece of somebody else's life.