Its blue edge continued to float above the water's green surface. The bulk of it was submerged, barely visible. But it held on, remaining afloat, if awkwardly. There was no grace in its movements. It was whipped here and there by whatever unseen currents moved under the water's surface, though that seem calm enough. Not a romanticized misunderstood bit of beauty, the plastic bag floated along as a thing not much different than it actually was, a discarded piece of rubbish. Waste.
In the car atop the bridge, the couple continued to argue.
"I didn't have it last; you did."
"No, I gave it to you right after we bought lunch."
"Well, where's the lunch bag then?"
"Didn't you just throw it away, litterbug?"
The radio repeated its announcement.
"20-84-12-09-63-82. Those are your winning numbers. The jackpot stands at $14 million."
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