To those who are lost . . .

. . . I would like to tell you that you will be found, that a neodymium magnet will pull your little paper clip self from under the couch where you have landed. But you don't want something that impersonal; you want to be found by a human being.

Ah, I wish that I could tell you that all lost things are found, that there are people adept at finding even the most far away gone, but I would be lying to you.

Do not worry. These words will never reach you. For a lost thing cannot hear that which is not spoken directly to it.

I cannot hear my own words. They are lost to me, or I am lost to them. Who can say for certain.