Glasses Chains
Location:
/Victoriana/Glasses Chains
Quite suddenly I stopped walking. I was somewhere in the archive. The dusty boxes and objects towered either side of me. The row of shelves seemed endless. I turned around in a swish of riding skirts. The row of shelves seemed endless. “Blast!” I walked back to the nearest cross way and tried to remember which way I’d come. I looked left, I look right. Nothing looked particularly familiar. Footsteps crisscrossed in the dust. “Damn.” I spun about. Put my hands on my hips and stopped and thought. There had to be some kind of logic to the catalogue. All I had to do was work out what it was, and from that, which way was back to the workshop. I peered at the tiny label of the nearest box. As I lent forward my glasses swung away from my body on their chain. I ran the brass chain between my thumb and index finger and rhythm of semi-precious stones, crystals and glass pearl beads was comforting, like a familiar rosary. I took a deep breath, blew the dust from the label and put on my glasses.
