(no subject)

[flemmings]

Last year I bought a pair of cherry coloured double thickness gloves. In the first cold snap of December I rousted them out of the bunker. Or rather, rousted it, because I could only find one. Well, no matter: I had one black double thickness glove left over, so that worked fine. Temps have been Novemberish for a bit so no need for gloves. Today it occurred to me to check my other winter coat and yes, one cherry coloured glove, hurray. Except. Except the other one, and the black one, had vanished. Went through my backpack of holding, went through the piles on the kitchen table, looked behind the bench in the hallway and found various missing items, but not my gloves. I must have left them somewhere, but where and when and above all how is a mystery.

So I bought another pair of cherry coloured gloves from the dollar store and shall try to keep track of them.  But still. Black holes follow me about and I don't like it.

Comments

[pauraque]

I've come to accept that gloves are ephemeral objects that we bring into our lives knowing that they have the power to depart from this material plane of existence whenever they wish.

[flemmings]

But what about the poor abandoned gloves that litter the sidewalk and street gutters? If my gloves have just dematerialized, then fine. But thinking of them alone and lonely and outside sodden in the rain wondering where I am-- oh, my heart.

[pauraque]

Perhaps that's what Wilde had in mind when he talked about being in the gutter and looking at the stars!

[flemmings]

A lovely thought but winter being as it is, they're in the gutter looking at the cloud cover.