I am confounded. Either the Lord giveth, taketh away and then…returneth, or there are some weird glove-abducting aliens about.
Shortly after Christmas Eve I lost a glove after midnight mass somewhere between Westminster Cathedral and Newman House, and then, through a happy coincidence, discovered that the remaining glove matched another odd glove I had remaining after I lost the other side of my previous pair, the two pairs of gloves being identical.
This morning, my lost glove came back. I was tottering down the stairs for breakfast in my usual morning subhuman fashion, and there it was. Lying on the second floor landing, looking for all the world like it’d been discarded only minutes before, when I knew the truth – that it had been missing nearly three weeks.
I snatched it up and scrutinized it. Black PVC, bulkyish, Thinsulate inside, altogether not too fashionable…it certainly looked and fitted like mine, so I figured it was. Either that, or there’s a murderer with rather small hands for the profession walking around with one icy hand, which is, I suppose appropriate in terms of dramatic effect.
The Lazarus glove. The prodigal glove. I am overflowing with biblical allusions. God, if you’re behind this, perhaps you could also get my scarf back here from Glasgow? Or just make me less of a scatterbrain, I suppose…