Sadyat promised I won't miss it. It was an old building tucked in tight between a two-storey shopping mart and a church with the tallest spires I'd ever seen.
I paused to read the writing etched into the building—The Directory of Lost Things.
I scoffed. How could a place like this boast of finding lost things? Its dilapidated state almost made me turn back but something stronger drew me in.
I opened the front door and stepped in. A bell tinkled announcing my arrival. The shop was spacious and looked bigger on the inside. Dimly lit, jars of different sizes sat on dusty shelves. The topmost shelves had jars that were big enough to hold a dog or goat.
What is this place?
A man cleared his throat from behind the counter, startling me. Average height and frail with round spectacles, he reminded me of Harry Potter and I almost rolled my eyes.
That thought sparked a faint but familiar interest inside me. I missed writing stories. Somehow, the words stopped coming and my ink dried up.
“How may I help you?” He asked with a hesitant smile.
“I, uh…I'm not sure…”
The man's smile widened. “Just say it, young man. You lost something?”
“My mother's locket. Actually, it's a family heirloom passed down….my mother passed away recently and somehow, the locket disappeared.”
The man gave a slow, deliberate nod as if all the world's knowledge resided within him. “Not lost. Most likely taken by an unworthy person. One moment, please.”
My jaw dropped in surprise as the man went into the back room. Maybe Sadyat, my good friend, was right. I could find anything lost in this strange shop.
I strolled around the shelves and a transparent glass box caught my eye. It was labelled, “Lost But Found Words”. Inside the box lay a stack of worn, brown pages of books. The musty scent wafted into my nostrils, bringing back memories of a time when I wrote and published stories.
I stopped writing when my mother fell ill. We had only each other, no one else. It was a cruel twist of fate when death took her from me. I lost the will to write.
Then I felt something…like an awakening.
A small cough. The frail man stood beside me with a small jewelry box. I realised I'd picked the glass box from the shelf and was holding it to my nose.
“Oh. I, uh, sorry about that.” I quickly placed the glass box back on my shelf, my fingers coated with dust.
He chuckled. “You found what you actually came for.”
“No. I—”
“Young man, The Directory returns what you need at that moment. I believe you just got back something you lost. Here, your mother's locket.” He placed the jewellery box in my palm. “Keep this safe.”
I opened the box and surely, my mother's silver locket lay inside. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”
He shook his head with a smile. “I look forward to reading your next publication.”
I left the shop like a zombie. Stunned, I clutched my mother's locket to my chest all through my train ride back home.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt words or phrase, “the directory of lost things”.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Image created using leonardo.ai
