Where Lost Things Go

         Starka, the red-haired imp, inched closer to the lovers’ blanket that lay flat under the silver tree.  A furry, no-name pup followed at her heels, but hesitated as they left the cover of the bush.  The imp sensed her friend’s unease and stroked his black fur.

         “Don’t worry,” Starka whispered.  “They won’t see us coming.  They are mesmerized by their own folly.”  She gave the pup an affectionate nudge under his muzzle, a little encouragement.

         When the duo reached the blanket, they noticed the fine spread of food—bread, cheese, grapes, something in a dark bottle, and a brown basket—all left behind.  Left for the taking.  But the food didn’t interest Starka.  She sought something much more precious than sustenance.  It just required a little searching, and she would find her prize. 

         “Search,” Starka told the pup, and he began to snuff around, nudging the basket with his wet nose. 

         The imp crouched down close to the ground and studied the scene.  Then, with instinct and a practiced hand, she lifted one corner of the blanket, gently as if plucking up a fairy wing, and saw her prize.  A blue ribbon, bright as the sky above.  Starka had been hiding behind a tree when the ribbon fell from the young woman’s golden hair.  “For my collection,” she whispered.

         Starka heard the rise and fall of voices coming from beyond the silver tree.  She tucked the ribbon into a small pouch and patted it before putting it away in her pocket.  It would join the other “lost items” that lined the walls of their dwelling.

Then, the two friends, as if they had never been there at all, disappeared without even a footprint into the deep forest.