"Long Lost" by Joseph Kerschbaum

Shreds of what was once a suit hang tattered from his thin shoulders. Looking like he

has walked a thousand miles, he leans against the doorbell for an elementary school.

The glass door to the main office frames a standing mess with knotted hair, scratched

face, and skin weathered from the elements. With only a glance, it is clear that he

does not belong here. Into the intercom, he asks to look through the lost and found.

His voice is as thin as paper mache. He has no children at this school but was once a

student. He lost something decades ago. The details have faded, but there is an

absence near the center of his existence. Feels like his heart is an event horizon. He

sits in corners and swallows the light in any room. It’s not on purpose, but people still

notice and keep their distance. It’s becoming harder to breathe. The vacancy shifts

shape frequently, but he will know when he discovers what is missing. There has to

be an answer.

The only item in the lost-and-found is a gray hoodie with a name other than his on the

tag, says the staticky voice on the other end of the intercom. The untethered feeling

of an astronaut cut loose in space swells again when the voice says they have no

record of him. Taking in his surroundings, he realizes he doesn’t recognize anything.

He is too exhausted to start over.

No, they do not have to call the police; he will leave. The distant voice through the

intercom says he is going in the wrong direction. The past is where we lose everything.

He cannot repair the void by going backward. Move forward. There is no lost and

found. There is only lost. There is only found. The school bell rings. A wave of laughing

children washes him away.

Joseph Kerschbaum’s most recent publications include Midnight Sunrise (Main Street Rag Press, 2024) and Mirror Box (Main St Rag Press, 2020). His recent work has appeared in Reunion: The Dallas Review, Hamilton Stone Review, The Inflectionist Review. Joseph lives in Bloomington, Indiana with his family.