I was traveling on trains in India with my mom and brother (neither of whom could, in reality, ever be persuaded to travel in India, even if their lives were at stake), but we were at an open-air train station, and the train was about to leave any second, and my mom and brother were already on the train, and I was walking toward the door where I could board, but I kept seeing stuff out of the corner of my eye -- a flash of red, a sheaf of papers, an open suitcase -- and turning back or bending down to see what it was, concerned that I had forgotten something of mine. Each time, it turned out not to be mine, but I still picked things up, concerned that someone else would be looking for their stuff, and I went up to some strange woman in the train station and gave her the stuff and asked her, "Would you please take these to someone in charge so these people can get their things?" She looked at me like I was weird, and I ran for the train, and I made it on just in time, at which point I had to start looking for my family.
So what's the deal with me being so concerned about total strangers (who aren't even present) getting their sheaves of papers and open suitcases (which possibly aren't even wanted)? Way too much attention to people I don't know and things that don't matter.