Wednesday, 18 June 2025

'Perditus' by Lynda McMahon

The first rule of looking for lost things: you know you’ve put it somewhere. The object you seek is ‘here’ somewhere. Just now ‘here’ is an elusive abstract, a non-place, an imaginary location in time and space.

“Have you looked in the usual places?”

That was Claude, all Gallic charm. I tried Zen-like calm.

“My dear Claude, it very much depends on what you mean by ‘the usual places’."

I smiled beatifically. To the casual observer it might look like I wished something malign to happen to Claude. I assure you this was not the case.

“The cooker, the fridge, the broom cupboard.”

I gave him my best wither, “Of course I have!”

I hadn’t thought of the broom cupboard but he didn’t need to know that. I casually mentioned needing to check my broom for twig moth. Not there! The dratted thing was always missing when I needed it most. Claude had followed me and languidly lowered himself into the nearest chair.

His body language said, “Well, I’ve done all I can. You’re on your own now.’ Within seconds he was fast asleep.

Asleep! That’s it! I had it in bed! I raced upstairs, flung back the covers and… no, it wasn’t there. Under the bed? Nope. I really must sweep under there! Just as I was about to abandon it for good something caught my eye; something dragon green and salamander-fire red; something I recognised.

“I’ve found it Claude!” He opened one eye, stretched and yawned showing his perfect little teeth.

“You don’t say!”  Cats can be so scathing.

I carefully carried my volume of Lost Objects and How to Find Them: Spells for Advanced Witches back to my laboratory. I must remember where I’ve put it. It’s so hard to find things without it.

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