Keys by the Microwave and the Neighbor's Wallet

Keys by the Microwave and the Neighbor's Wallet

I was in the office break room after hours, looking for my keys because I was sure I’d left them by the microwave. The fridge light was on and the door wouldn’t close all the way. Inside there was a plastic bag that wasn’t mine, with a wallet and a house key on a ring I recognized from my neighbor two doors down. I kept thinking I should call someone, but my phone kept opening the building’s security camera app instead of contacts. The hallway back to my desk was longer than usual and mixed with the hallway of my apartment. I passed the same copier three times. A guy from accounting was there in a jacket he doesn’t wear, asking if I’d seen who took the bike from the rack. I felt like I was supposed to know, like I’d already been questioned, but I couldn’t remember answering. I woke up still trying to put the key back without anyone noticing.