Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Whoever would ever think . . .

. . . to place a lost and found box in front of a closet door in a basement-level vending machine room?

I found the box of sundry pencils and unmatched gloves quite by accident. What I was looking for was the drinking fountain, thirsty for life's most vital nutrient. The box delighted me. What are the odds of anyone finding a lost and found box that is itself lost, unmapped and uncharted except to those vending machine and water fountain frequenters? 

How long will the box sit in front of the door holding the miscellaneous of those who will likely never know where to find it?

1 comment:

Heather Dixon said...

This is poetic. It reminds me of the red wheelbarrow.