Ella and the Fascinating Case of the Missing Glasses

I lost my glasses somewhere between last night and this morning. I had placed them carefully on the end table next to the sofa on the porch where I was sleeping, but when I woke up they were gone. My aunt and uncle had left in the morning, taking with them some bags that had rest against the table, and I thought that perhaps they had fallen into one of them and travelled south with them in their gold colored truck. But they hadn’t when we called in the evening.

I don’t wear my glasses much–I tend to accidently knock them off and send them tumbling to the ground, I hate how easily they smudge, and I hate having my peripheral
vision impaired==but my right eye does an abysmal job of seeing, and I usually end up wearing them in the evening and at night, especially if I’m reading or working on the computer. I have another pair at home with the same prescription, so in theory it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they never showed up, but it is also nice to be able to see things after seven o’clock in the evening.

My grandmother and I checked the whole porch twice, and I crawled around on the carpet with my cheek pressed to the floor to look under all the furniture to no avail. I had begun to give up hope that they would appear and began to believe that they were in some bizarre location that we would laugh about when someone found them years later.

But a few minutes ago, I found them nestled in the sheets I had used to turn the sofa into a bed. They had somehow gotten stuck in them and it was only when I went to make up my real bed that they appeared.

It got me thinking about lost objects and the funny way that things disappear only to end up in a place you wouldn’t expect them, the panic that settles sharply in your chest during the initial frantic search, the dull weight of the resignation that you’ll just have to cope without the item, and then the jolt of excitement, happiness, and energy when it finally turns up. “I found you!” you want to scream, “You are mine once again!” If I was more awake, I’d come up with some extended metaphor for how losing my glasses is similar to life, but right now, I’m just enjoying the wave of good emotions and being able to see.

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