“I have no clue what I did with my glasses.”
“For the past decade or so, I’ve always put my glasses on the end table by my chair in the living room. It is a habit I have and I do it without thinking. However, one morning I reached for my glasses and they weren’t there.”
I started to remember many things that disappeared. A few years ago I lost my wallet. That night I specifically remembered putting it in the night table by my bed. The next morning it was gone. That particular loss was very frustrating because I had to contact all of the credit card companies and the Department of Motor Vehicles.
Just this morning I noticed the little jar I have on my desk for paper clips was empty. I know I put a couple of extra boxes of clips in my closet. When I reached for them they weren’t there. I asked my wife if she took them and she told me in a particular tone that she had little use for my paper clips.
In the past I’ve lost many things. I have lost keys, paperwork, books, a camera, a cell phone, garden tools. I once even lost a pair of shoes. My wife thinks my losing of things is simply a continuation of my quest to lose my mind.
Could there be a place in Middle Earth where everyone’s lost things end up? Could Tolkien be right and there is a society of things beneath us that dares to confuse and frustrate by taking what we think is important? I wonder if these beings are small.
They must live deep within the earth and come out only at night. They must be strong little critters that have long ears and even longer beards. I doubt if they wear colorful clothes because they’ve never been seen. There’s also a good chance they are also always smiling.
They must wear soft-soled shoes because you never hear them enter your house. Now that I think of it, when I am lying in bed I sometimes hear clicks and snaps that I assumed were the settling of my house or the flow of water through the pipes that heat my house. Maybe I was wrong.
The doors they use to enter our world have to be under the dandelions and other deep-rooted weeds in our yards. For most of my life I’ve been condemned to pull out these weeds only to be frustrated by the fact I can never get all of the root because it is too deep into the ground. Now I think I know why.
Inanimate objects are not the only things we lose in our lifetimes. I wonder what happens to the friends and lovers we had earlier in our lives? Have they also gone to a place where lost things go? I also wonder if they are also in the process of wondering where we are?
Hell, maybe I was the one that was snatched in the middle of my life and ended up in a wonderful place that is part of the middle earth we all call Maine? What about the aspirations of our youth that used to fuel our lives?
Were they also snatched away in the middle of our lives and stolen from our memories so we would not mourn their loss? Of course, they sneak back every now and then in the form of dreams. It’s almost as though they have to. These dreams don’t only have to take place at night.
They are also in the form of daydreams that make all of our lives a bit more enjoyable. Could there be a place in Middle Earth where all these dreams and memories go? Can you imagine how that place would look? It would have to be a colorful place.
The air would have to be fresh and filled with the scents of peace and prosperity. This must be the place where the small creatures live who steal our things and who perpetually have a smile on their faces.
Enough! Fantasies are supposed to make one feel good. This one simply made me feel odd. It must be the time to have a glass of my favorite Scotch but, when I reached into my liquor cabinet, I discovered it wasn’t there. I laughed to myself and wondered if the creatures, living in the place where lost things go, were having a party on me.
Jim Fabiano is a retired teacher and writer living in York, Maine
You can contact Jim at email@example.com