It was a little rainy and damp and my mind was meandering from thought to thought without really concentrating on anything in particular, as usual I was walking through the streets of Islington and losing myself in a separate world.

Then just there on the dwindling corner of my eye I caught a little spark, a reflection in a watery pool.

I leaned down and saw a key floating in the puddle that I was about to step in.

I love keys

I love antique keys

But most of all I love the thought of finding a key

And this one was intriguing, serpentine swirls conjoining to form the head and atop a little crown.

As I picked it up I discovered it wasn’t a key but a brooch. What joy to wear this little trinket pinned to my scarf or my woolly hat.

And here it is; the key in the puddle that made such a dreary, ordinary day one to talk about.

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