Boomearrings
I have an adventurous pair of classic silver hoops many years old. They are a kind of guest in my home, as on rare occasions they suddenly go AWOL, only to turn up again when least expected.
The first time I discovered – whilst travelling by train – that like Jack Sparrow, I was adorned with a single earring. The left had taken off. Sadly I removed its mate and put it away in my purse. I was sure I would never see the other again.
…like Jack Sparrow, I was adorned with a single earring.
Some time later, my then-boyfriend while lolling on a giant floor pillow, complained of a metallic object sticking into him. He felt about and withdrew the missing hoop! I was overjoyed, and kept a watchful eye on them after that. Five or six years passed quite peacefully.
Their last dereliction from duty took place a month or two ago, and it was some time before I noticed their absence. The fault was entirely my own. After taking them off in the changing room of my sports club, instead of dropping them into the bottom of my handbag, I put them in a ‘safe place’. Unfortunately, I completely forgot the location of said ‘safe place’.
Days passed before I remembered to retrieve them. The first of several ‘thorough’ searches took place. No joy. I became a little obsessed and ‘searched thoroughly’ for them at random times, still to no avail.
I gave them up for lost.
Weeks drifted by. Summer turned to autumn. I wore a raincoat* for the first time in months. I put my hand in the pocket, and pulled out – not a rabbit, but a hoop earring! I was crestfallen: only one hoop earring and a somewhat desiccated tissue. Ugh. I knew I would never see the missing hoop again, and allowed a moment of sadness to wash over me. It could have fallen out any time, anywhere I told myself. It would take a miracle, I sighed…
I knew I would never see the missing hoop again, and allowed a moment of sadness to wash over me.
That evening, when I returned home and inserted my key into the lock, I absently noted that my keyring seemed to have duplicated itself. I looked closer. What was this? My earring! It must have become entangled with my keys when I thrust them into the coat pocket that morning.
In awe, I carefully placed it with its twin. Yes, they’re scarred, beat up and bent out of shape, but their whimsical history doubles their value in my eyes. Now I’m too scared to take them out of the house – that would really be pressing my luck, boomearrings or not.
*NB. I had already searched the pockets of this coat twice before.