FOUNDON-4612
A buyer searches the board before meeting a seller, finds the same charcoal frame reported stolen two weeks earlier, and walks away instead of paying.
● How a recovery ends
How a notice ends.
Every notice on the wall is hoping for one line at the end: FOUND. Recovery arrives in a handful of shapes — the porch bike, the slipped leash, the drone fished out of the reeds — and each one asks something different of the board.
The shapes a recovery takes.
illustrative · not real casesREUNITED
FOUNDON-4627
A dog slips his leash in the ravine. Someone three streets over recognizes the red collar from the notice and opens a thread — no phone number changes hands.
FOUNDON-4634
Two people describe the same bike. The serial nobody published — recorded on the notice months ago — is what settles which of them owns it.
FOUNDON-4641
A repair shop takes in a bike, checks the board out of habit, and finds a notice that has been sitting there since spring.
FOUNDON-4658
A robot mower disappears from a back garden overnight and turns up abandoned in a lane. Whoever finds it posts it as FOUND rather than guessing whose it is.
FOUNDON-4663
A drone goes down over the harbour. A kayaker fishes it out of the reeds and posts it to the found board the same night, keeping the serial to themselves as a check.
Your ending is still unwritten
Every wall has a homecoming waiting. Put yours up.
Post the notice in two minutes and it is searchable straight away. When your item does come home, close the notice yourself — and if you're willing, write and tell us how it happened.