F-0019 An inquiry about a lost item with no name

(Said to be a transcript of a call to a lost-property inquiry line. Transcriber’s notes are as in the original record.)

Received: November 9, 2015 (Monday), logged in the 4 p.m. hour

Staff: Thank you for calling. This is the lost property inquiry desk.

Caller: Oh—hello, sorry. I’m calling about something I lost this morning.

Staff: Certainly. May I have the station you used, and the approximate time?

Caller: Kirino Station. In the morning… seven fifty, around then. It wasn’t eight yet, I’m fairly sure.

Staff: Kirino Station, before eight. And what would the item be?

Caller: That’s the thing—it’s, um, not clear to me.

Staff: Um… a bag, an umbrella, a pass case, a mobile phone—

Caller: It’s all here. My bag, my pass, my wallet. I checked over and over after I got to the office.

Staff: …Then, the item would be?

Caller: I don’t know. Ever since I came out through the ticket gate, there’s just been this feeling that I dropped something, and it won’t go away. [pause of a few seconds] It sounds strange, doesn’t it. I’m sorry.

Staff: Not at all. Whatever you can recall is fine. Was there anything different about what you had with you this morning?

Caller: Everything was as usual. I left home at the usual time, took the usual train. Only, the gate beeped twice.

Staff: The beep—meaning?

Caller: The sound when you go through. That little beep. I was the only one going through, but a moment later it sounded once more. I looked back and there was no one. When I asked at the station, they said it can double up during inspections.

Staff: I see.

Caller: I don’t know anything about the machines, so perhaps that’s all it is. Only—that’s where it starts. The feeling that I dropped something.

Staff: [sound of turning pages] For today, the items handed in from Kirino Station are: one glove, one side only, and one medication notebook. Does either sound familiar?

Caller: I wasn’t wearing gloves. My medication notebook is at home.

[pause of a few seconds]

Caller: Can I ask—does this kind of thing happen? My right hand feels light. It has all morning. I keep feeling I always carried something in this hand when I walked, and I can’t bring back what it was, no matter how I try. Only the weight. I remember the weight.

Staff: [pause of a few seconds] The weight, you say.

Caller: Not carrying, maybe—pulling, it might have been. I don’t know.

Staff: Without the name of the item, I’m afraid there is little we can search on.

Caller: No, of course.

Staff: Items do sometimes come in later, so I will just make a record of your inquiry. Properly we take these under the name of the item, so this form of it is, well, not usual. May I have your name and a contact number?

Caller: [name and contact details omitted]

Staff: Then the item will be entered as: item name unknown, one item.

Caller: One.

Staff: Yes. We will contact you if anything comes in.

Caller: [pause of a few seconds] If it comes in—how would I know it’s mine?

Staff: When you come to collect it, we would confirm the particulars with you.

Caller: The particulars. [small laugh] Yes, of course. I’m sorry, this must have been a strange call. Thank you.

Staff: Not at all. Thank you for calling.

[end of call]