Beginning at some unimaginable location an unfathomable distance away, it gradually bends and twists its way toward a greenscaped lot. The trees try to resist it, but eventually bend aside and allow its passage to continue. A lonely leaf leaps from the earth in an attempt to sail, but only lasts a trivial distance before fluttering back to a new home on the ground. The breeze crests the escarpment of a gorge, and gathers itself into an accelerated crack of an invisible whip. Across the park it flows and in its progression snatches something up and twirls it on its perch.
That something was once brightly colored in its peacock-like radiance, now slightly muted with the years' progressive dimming of the jacket's hue, color, and saturation levels. A hood reaches high from the jacket to cling to an unwavering prominence on a plain, galvanized, and stolid chain-link fence. The fence hook has a firm grasp on the jacket's tenuous reach, with no fear of losing grip in the midst of the brief tumults.
The jacket is not quite so certain, and in its effort to cling to its precarious perch, it swings and flails in the breeze, sometimes wildly and other times more demurely; but always moving about. The entire garment transforms from hanging limply to straining at an angle with less than a moment's notice. This swaying is oft accompanied by an odd sleeve snapping straight out, a perfect mimicry of some forgotten military salute demonstrating understanding and obedience. The body twists and spins while this gale, in particular, attempts to succeed where previous winds have failed, by spiriting the jacket away into a forgotten state of being.
Despite the zephyr's insistence, the outerwear endures in its misappropriated state of lost-and-not-foundness. It has been misplaced by some person(s) out there, who right now may not even notice its absence, and it has been left to ride the currents as only the breezes see fit.
But -- Things don't just disappear into a state of being lost; a cause often lies in the carelessness or inattentiveness of people, resulting in the unfortunate mislaying.
Who was they, that could lose something so obviously well cherished?
What was the cause of the disappearance?
Where was the carelessness?
When was the inattentiveness?
How did those failures become subtle withdrawals, magnifying to the point of the mislaying?
Why did this tunic get left behind?
The faded colors, the repaired lacerations, the nearly-worn-through abrasions indicate this particular item was of some significance.
Perhaps the person(s) responsible feel like they have lost a best friend.
Perhaps they feel sad. Perhaps they loved that jacket. Perhaps it felt like family to them.
Perhaps... they understand it as a relationship that has been hung on chain-link fence to toil in the wind; forgotten and unwanted.
That item is certainly well missed.
