Lost Luggage

Reads: 123  | Likes: 2  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 5

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Cover image: pixabay.com

Submitted: May 25, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 25, 2019

A A A

A A A


Lost Luggage

I’ve been responsible for the lost luggage here for many years. Being a relatively small provincial train station a lot of our customers are regulars, the vast majority of passengers making their daily commute to and from work.

Even regular passengers forget things sometimes, umbrellas, briefcases, handbags, that sort of thing. But they always had a good idea of where to come to look.

Our Lost Luggage Room is more of a cupboard, to be honest. Sometimes it gets a bit fuller than others, for it only takes a couple of large items to clog up the space. Mostly there are mobile phones which take no room up at all. And they are rarely there for even a day; the longest resident phone was in there for a week.

Every single item that was handed in, I logged and numbered. No matter how small or apparently worthless, it was treated in the same way as a top-of-the-range phone. If someone came in asking, I’d get out the ledger, look through the entries and if it was there I’d be able to quickly retrieve it.

The rule was that we would hold on to an item for 357 days. After that, it would be disposed of. That had never happened once in all my time looking after the lost luggage until today. It is my duty to remove the item, dispose of it, and in this case it is one of the biggest that has ever been there. I’ll take it home for I have to admit it has begun to hold a certain fascination over me.

It is a case, but an unusual one. The shape of it reminds me of a pirate’s chest, although from the look and the smell it is made of leather. Straps, locks, metal borders and corners decorate it, making it look even more...special than it would otherwise. And it is old. Either that or it has been very badly cared for, roughly handled for the surface is battered and worn.

Something tells me that it holds something special. I place it down carefully and have my tea, looking at it in anticipation. There is a lock and I do not have the key. How can I open it to do the least damage? I go off, gather up some screwdrivers and approach it. Such is the strength of my anticipation, my hands are trembling as I reach out for the lock.

It springs open. For all this time it has been sitting in Lost Luggage unlocked! There’s nothing more to do than lift the lid and its secrets will be revealed.

I lick my lips that have suddenly become dry, take a deep breath and reach out with trembling fingers to lift the lid. Nothing! The case that had captured my imagination, caught and held my attention for a year and a day holds nothing but slightly musty air.

I let my hands explore the inside of the case. Maybe there is a hidden compartment or pocket that holds something small; jewellery, cash, even a photograph or a letter. I take my time, reluctant to concede defeat for my fingers have located nowhere hidden, secret, at all.

I won’t deny that I am disappointed. My initial reaction is to toss it out with the trash, but I hesitate. It does look kind of special so I will keep it as a decoration, and a reminder not to let my imagination get too carried away should a piece of Lost Luggage get left for that amount of time again.


© Copyright 2019 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

More Flash Fiction Short Stories