Cycling out of the petrol station this morning after getting some stuff, I noticed a dropped set of keys on the forecourt. I was late for work so I didn't stop to pick them up and hand them in. My conscience hit me like a loose conker in autumn straight away. On the rest of the ride in I tried to imagine what would have happened if I hadn't seen them. One thing was immediately apparent, this was going to haunt me throughout the day. In a meeting I found my mind wondering. Who was the owner of those bereft metallic keys? Was he a working man like me, just trying to get by, sanity intact by clocking off time. Was it an absent minded hoody having a bad day. He didn't mean it lord. I even thought about going back at lunchtime to see if they were still there. I thought about loss of possessions and innocence; about what really matters. I finally concluded that although someone had lost their keys, in my not handing them in I had lost something far more consequential. Part of the bit that separates humankind from the animals.