michaeldargie

100 Days — Writing

Found Treasures

There at my feet, across from Sidney's best fish and chips, lay a beautiful if inexpensive piece of jewellery. I looked around for someone clutching their neck. Not a soul.

by Michael Dargie · August 14, 2026 · 425 words · 2 min read

Found Treasures — There at my feet, across from Sidney's best fish and chips, lay a beautiful if inexpensive piece of jewellery. I looked around for someone clutching their neck. Not a soul.

Walking is one of my favourite modes of transportation. Not hiking. Walking. I'm sure hiking is nice, and I'm not here to yuck anyone's hiking yum, I just like the act of walking somewhere. Hiking is a there-and-back adventure, and I don't have the patience for the "back" when I've just seen it. Know what I mean? Walking is about a destination. Maybe I need that for some reason.

I don't have good walking shoes.

Sometimes I wear sandals and meander for a few hours until I hit my destination. When I was younger I spent entire summers without shoes at all. My feet got so tough I could run down gravel roads and not wince. That came in handy more than once, usually while being chased down back alleys by police after we were caught skinny-dipping in the Silver Springs outdoor pool at midnight. More on that in another post. I am an outlaw.

Why am I telling you this? Because when you walk you take your time and see more of the world. Or if not more of it, you spend more time taking part in it.

Case in point. I was walking back from a particularly good writing session at Serious Coffee in Sidney when I came upon a lost bauble. There at my feet, on the corner across from Fish O Chips, lay a beautiful, if inexpensive, piece of jewellery. I stopped, admired it, and picked it up.

I looked around to see if anyone was clutching their neck in search of a lost heirloom. No one. I spun around expecting to find someone counting the charms on their bracelet and coming up one short. Not a soul. I checked the trees, secretly hoping for a crow giving me a knowing wink, letting me know they'd clocked every marble and trinket I've left for them over the years and this was the payback.

Not a crow or raven or magpie to be seen.

This was simply a lost piece of jewellery. I put it in my pocket and thought about it the whole way back to my parents' house. I made up stories, invented the adventures that led this sparkling wonder to a street corner across from Sidney's best fish and chips. The key to a puzzle. A trinket that would unite two countries. Weren't the Royals in town?

I gave it to my parents and left it to them to put in the local LOST & FOUND column. Maybe William and Kate will offer a reward. Who's to say.

// comments · 0

Start the conversation.

if you liked this

Get the next one in your inbox.

A short letter when there's something worth sending — memoir notes, new essays, the occasional event.

how often

the slow letter — first of the month