Lost And Found
Gillian slumped back on the large brown sofa, exhausted. The doors of her wooden closet were left wide open, with the clothes hurled outside and spread on the maroon carpet that she had purchased in her recent trip to India. She had spent the last two hours frantically looking for her favourite red woolen scarf. It was not in the laundry bag, which had been turned upside down in her quest. It was not amongst the washed clothes either, which had been piled on at one end of her bed, all waiting to be ironed and folded since the past three days. There was no way she could afford dry cleaning this time of the year, so there was no chance of it being sent off for grooming either. It was nowhere to be found. Her little apartment had, by then, been filled with clutter created as a bye-product of her search. A feeling of defeat and sadness engulfed Gillian. She tried to remember the last time she wore the scarf. It was probably at the party Robbie had thrown, she thought. A lady at the...