Season Six

How it always ends up like this
Two lovers staring at each other through a phone screen, lost

Lost: Season One — Camp Cope


I lost one of my favourite gloves in New Zealand. I dropped it on Day 2 of the conference and a man in a striped shirt pointed it out, kindly.

There is was, resting defiantly — recalcitrantly even — on the floor, having fallen there without so much as a sound to alert me.

I was effusive in my gratitude.

Those gloves were part of me. My best friend brought them home from America.

I thanked my lucky stars for the near miss as I picked up the runaway glove and stuffed it into my conference bag with its mate.

The day we left New Zealand — after a night of competitive flirting with cocktail waiters and dancing with backpackers — I searched through every single piece of my luggage.

I could only find one glove.

I was incredulous.

But that guy in the striped shirt had told me I dropped one and I thanked him effusively and I picked it up and tucked it safely away.

I thought I did all I could.

But sometimes things are just lost.


Now it’s winter. And I miss my gloves.

I bought a new pair on Monday when the chill bit me hard. They are warm and I like them.

But you can’t really replace lost things.

All you can do is keep moving. Because there’s a plane to catch, and another adventure.

And sometimes things are just lost.