My eyes fluttered open to a pounding head and a gnawing in my gut. Rain tapped lightly on my hood; its sound was both soothing and irritating as each drop echoed in my ears. Last night’s haze was lifting, but not enough to get me to my feet.
The quiet streets were coming alive, despite the miserable day. Footsteps neared, slowed, and then drifted away again. If it weren’t for the clink of metal on metal, I wouldn’t have lifted my head. I looked up and down the street, but the passerby had disappeared into the crowd. Then my eyes drifted over to my cup, a souvenir from last night’s escapades. The bottom was lined with several coins.
I dumped the cup into my shaky hand as I rose quickly to my feet. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I had been mistaken for a panhandler; my looks had been deceiving.
Have you ever been mistaken for someone else? Let me know what you think.
Flash fiction prompt provided by http://www.writerlycorner.com/writerly-prompts/writerly-wednesday-3232016.