“Hey, Nathan? I lost the notes for our assignment.”
We went to a concert, took notes in response to some very specific questions, and enjoyed the company of the British man sitting behind us so we could get our experiential credit for a class, and I lost our notes. I wasn’t back in my dorm for ten minutes before I reached over to were I put the pale pink paper covered in scribbled, doctor-like scratches and messy, yet readable cursive to find that it was no longer there. Not only were the notes for our semi-drowsy, semi-entertaining course, but they also had some witty add-ins and comical sketches intermingled with the two dancing scripts. I was panicking as I carefully unstacked worn books, pulled back colourful blankets, opened organised drawers, and looked underneath the low-laying bed.
Nowhere. The notes were gone.
As I tried to calm myself down to avoid an anxiety attack, I pulled out the simple cream-coloured program and began to look online to find the orchestral pieces.
“Another hour and a half of listening to the same music again. Oh, joy,” I murmured sarcastically as I pulled out my phone to inform my friend of our newly perceived dilemma.
I started moving the furniture around in hopes of finding the sheet of paper for fear of my lacking ability to remember how the various songs sounded. I searched for several minutes, fully aware that I had taken the paper out and placed it inside the book which would be cited in our assignment, so I checked the pages again, gently turning every page until I had seen the entire book. It still wasn’t held inside, hugged in safety near the spine.
“Sam and Christina Jo took good notes as well, I’ll ask them if they can send us photos or let us borrow them,” Nathan replied.
That is exactly what occurred.
Several months later, as my roommate and I were rearranging the furniture for moving out for the summer, I moved my bed away from the wall for the umpteenth time to see a carefully folded piece of pale pink paper float to the ground.
Prompt: write about a loss.
Would you like to read about the imagined adventures of the pale pink paper as another random prompt? If so, let me know via the comments down below.
What’s something you’ve lost when it was (at least seemingly) dire that you have it and found when it held no more importance?