Lost Words, by Rosaleen Lynch

The word “umbrella” was missing for three hours. If I hadn’t asked the cashier for “one of those” and been asked, “What, an umbrella?” who knows how long it would have been gone.

I’ve no idea how long I lost the word “key”. Didn’t need it until I did. Then hadn’t got it. Had to make the gesture of turning something in a lock.

Losing some words, you know straight away from the anguished look on a face you don’t recognise. They could be anyone. Have any name. And right then the words “umbrella” and “key” come to you uselessly.

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