Lost & found
A curious ask: assistance requested for identification/location of unknown item of great subjective value. Substantial financial incentive!
Bigger than a bread box, smaller than your dad. (Estimated.)
Formerly inhabiting the northwest corner of the front bedroom of my house, second floor. (Probably.)
I admit it: This is a shot in the dark. A prayer. A thing of the last ditch sorts. This is a Hail Mary pass. A desperate hurl where the good virgin intercedes in the direction &/or velocity of a pigskin’s path across a Sunday morning sports field.
But I’m out of other options & now there’s nowhere else to turn to.
In my bedroom. Week ago Thursday. I walked in & I just knew. I felt it. The absence was palpable.
There – between the black lacquered shelf where my fiction books go & the box for my acoustic guitar – there was… Nothing!
Just an empty corner. Only a tile floor. Just a place where something belonged, where a something sat when everything in the world was sitting right where each something belonged.
I admit it: I panicked. I spun around & I looked & then I looked some more & I panicked. I tried filling the space. First, a pair of dumbbells. Next, a djembe drum. I even moved my old worn recliner from its place over by the window into that confounded corner in hopes that it might… well, you know…. make sense.
None of it was right. Nothing belonged there. Nothing was the something I was missing.
& I felt… I remembered… I knew I had spent untold hours sitting there, in front of that missing something, staring & thinking & feeling. I’d loved that something & now it was gone!
So I closed my eyes. In my mind, I pictured my room. Got a feel for it. Pictured it like it was before. Before the something went missing. I pictured my desk & I pictured my book shelves & I pictured the giant rack of compact discs. But every time I tried – nonchalantly, of course, casually spinning around in my mental room of old to catch the something unawares – to picture that awful & infamous corner, everything kind of went all fuzzy.
The now-missing something would not show itself.
I wondered whether it had been green in color. Did you wind it up with a crank? Did it require feeding?
I admit it: I cried. Crumbled down entirely. After all of the time & all of the effort & all of the love I’d shown for… for… well, for whatever it had been… to find it just gone like this!
Was it a something I could hold in my hands? Did it feel heat and cold? Would I have required help to carry it? Was it edible?
Then my daughter walked in & she saw that I was crying. My daughter wrapped her arms around me, kneeling there in front of my now-empty corner.
I sniffled. I asked my daughter, “What was in this corner? What is it that’s supposed to be here?”
& my daughter, she kept hugging me. She said, “There’s nothing in that corner, Kay-Kay. It’s empty.” But kids always have such a hard time with notions of present tense and past.
After that, I flipped through old photo albums. I read my old diaries. Something this important… I mean, surely I would have documented it somewhere, wouldn’t I?
I cried in my sleep. Thursday night & then Friday night & then so on & so on. I woke up howling over the loss of a something I could not even remember.
In my dreams at night, I was that beloved something, sitting in its proper corner, looking outward. I was the something that looked out & saw Katy before it. (Katy is me when I’m not something else in my dreams.)
In my dreams, I saw Katy on her knees, staring, & there was love & there was fear & there was unadulterated AWE in Katy’s eyes.
But now… Now a week has passed & I am awake again & I still mourn for that missing something. I still do not know what that something was (is?) but I know it meant (means?) everything to me. It gave my life direction & meaning & purpose & now it is gone.
But somebody out there has to know. Somebody out in the interwebs has seen my room or has heard me talk about this thing that I value more than anything else in the world.
Somebody knows, because in this world, things do not retroactively cease to exist.
$$$$$$ I will pay you to bring my something back to me, NO QUESTIONS ASKED! $$$$$
I will give you everything that I have. Hell, I will pay you just to tell me what it was!
Any day of the week. Any time, day or night. I can arrange for a meet-up or pay for shipping & handling or wire you money on the spur of the moment. Alternatively, we can barter. Exchange good or services. Find something mutually beneficial for us both for this information &/or item or items.
Call 832-؏؋ڲ-1499 & ask for Katy.
This is a serious offer.
(If the missing something is a something that can read & it is reading this, my offer still stands. Please come home!)