RINA
I missed two of my afternoon classes. Half of the time was spent roaming about in search of my bag and the reclaim section the guy had talked about. The other half was me in the bathroom, spilling the entire contents of my tear duct.
It was official. My bag had disappeared. Stolen, perhaps. The walk to the reclaim section hadn't been a success. As it stood, I'd be walking nothing less than a mile—in every sense of it. Two, I'd go through the rigors of getting my documents again—that was, if I decided to go on with schooling here. The probability of that was quite low.
I was hanging around in one of the empty theater balconies, waiting for the clock to strike three. That was when the last class was held.
Some minutes later, I left. I was able to locate my classroom thanks to the
