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I was grabbing a quick coffee before work when I spotted two carry-ons tucked behind a planter near the curb by Providence Station around 9:15 a.m. today. One is a black rolling suitcase and the other a navy soft-shell bag, both with travel stickers. There were no obvious IDs, so I left them on the information desk and hoped the owner would see this post.
I’m Mia Thompson, and I realized around 7:15 PM last Friday that my sports gear had vanished from my bag at the Providence Place Mall food court in downtown Providence, Rhode Island. The bag sat under a chair while I grabbed a pretzel, and when I turned back, the gear was gone. Inside was equipment for multiple sports—a pair of soccer cleats, a folded yoga mat, a basketball, and a few shin guards—all in a gray duffel with a blue stripe. I’m worried about keeping up with practices this week; this kit means a lot to me, both practically and emotionally. I’m hopeful someone picked it up and will return it to the lost-and-found.
On Friday afternoon around 4:30 p.m., I found three paintings leaning against a trash bin near the south entrance of Providence Station in Providence, Rhode Island. The frames are a little worn, but the canvases show varied scenes—a rocky shoreline, a calm harbor, and a sunlit street corner—each one vibrant in its own way. The signature in the corner is faint, and there’s a sense they were dropped in a hurry by someone rushing to catch a train. I’m posting this here in the hope the rightful owner sees it and can claim them again.
While walking from a coffee shop on Westminster Street around 4:15 p.m. on Friday, I found a small plastic case with memory cards lying on the sidewalk near the Providence Place Mall. The case contains several SD cards, some labeled with dates and trip names. I can see a few files labeled 'Vacation 2024' and 'Family Photos' on one card. I’ll hold onto them here in case the owner checks this page; I hope the rightful owner sees this and can recover their pictures.
I found microwaves belonging to someone else in the community kitchen of my Providence, Rhode Island, apartment building at 7:42 AM today. They sat on the stainless counter, pulse light blinking, and the door hung with a tiny dent. The morning sun spilled through the window by the river, and the hum of the fridge kept me company as I surveyed the scene. I felt a mix of responsibility and relief, thinking of the person who might be searching for them. I’ve kept them safe in the staff room until the owner can claim them through the building manager.
I was walking my dog at 6:15 p.m. on Tuesday along Exchange Street by Providence Station when I spotted a small pile of coins under a bench. It looked like a century of change—pennies with copper sheen, a few bright nickels, and one silver coin that looked older. It felt like a tiny connection to someone’s routine—a bus ride, a tip jar, a quick purchase after a long day. I tucked the coins into a small tin and hoped they’ll help someone piece together their day again.
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