Chapter 8: Bagnapped

All of the time traveling and toting left the bag quite exhausted. The bag hoped for a few days of empty and silence before the sands of times shifted once again to take it on more extraordinary adventures. The sands shifted at the bag’s request and landed it in Daytona Beach, Florida. At this time of year the waves were big and the sun shined the brightest—the perfect place for a bag in need of rest.

It just so happened that at the same time, Barry Allen, a young forensic scientist known by a few as the Flash, also needed a break. Speeding around Central City catching meta-humans was taking its toll. On an evening walk on the beach, Barry saw the bag sitting alone in the sand. This is perfect for collecting evidence for all of the meta-human cases I’ve had lately, he thought.

Barry took the bag back to the Star Labs owned beach house and set to work on his latest case. This was not looking to be the relaxing vacation the bag had hoped for. Barry leaned back in his chair, frustrated that there was not enough evidence to put away the meta-human Flora (a sneaky young lady with the ability to grow flowers with the snap of her fingers). He knew she was behind the most recent bank break-ins—who else would leave daffodils at the scene of a crime?

The sands shifted and the bag was gone. This was not surprise to Barry—as a speedster he had seen stranger things happen. Minutes after the bag vanished, it reappeared. Barry laughed. “Looks like my bag is a speedster too!”

Inside the bag, Barry found the evidence he needed—photographs, dried flowers, DNA—stuffed into the bag. Thinking that a vacation with the Flash was not the kind of vacation it needed, the bag disappeared leaving behind the evidence.

The bag knew just where to go, but first it made a quick stop in Paris to be carried down the runway for a brand new fashion designer. Cameras flashed and the crowd cheered as the bag and model posed for fashion critiques around the World. Then off it went again to finally get the rest it desired.

The bag sat in the shade of a black pine tree on an uncharted island off the coast of Japan. Settling in on an uninhabited, primitive island for vacation was just what the bag needed. Its silence was interrupted by a screeching ay, ay, ay! The bag felt a strong tug on its gray strap and then was whisked high up into the tree by a long-tailed monkey. I’ve been bagnapped! the bag thought.

The long blow of a ships horn echoed through the trees. Frightened, the monkey dropped the bag and ran deeper into the forest. Now, the bag sits alone, happy, and resting to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Just a few months, the bag thought. Then I will return to my adventures.