Sue Vincent has come up with another beautiful image for her latest #writephoto prompt, and my response is the next part to the story I started for another prompt, Sacha Black’s 52 Words in 52 Weeks. And here it is:

Later I sat and pondered his words. Alone in a dark corner, rainbow light from the old windows painting the walls. Across the room the bar and patrons were all light and noise, but I sat separate from it all, the colours camouflage enough.

I did like lost things. Although I didn’t think of them that way. To me they were treasure, holding stories like faint fingerprints, reminders of owners past. Sometimes, if I closed my eyes and it was quiet enough, I could almost hear them talking, smell the disappeared world they’d inhabited.

But the man in the junk shop had shaken me. Made me question why I was so drawn to the detritus of the past. Was the fact that they were lost things speaking to something in me, a space for a missing piece I hadn’t even realised was gone?

Am I lost? I thought, my hands curving around my glass. If I am, who will find me?

And, do I want to be found?

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