I’m always stumbling across strange items early in the morning as my dog Maura and I run around our San Fernando Valley neighborhood. Today we found this pair of broken sunglasses sitting on the stoop outside an apartment building.
I popped it into my pocket and as we continued jogging up the street my mind speculated over the range of possibilities: whose were they? How did they get broken? Did somebody break them by accident? Or were they intentionally broken? How come whoever left them didn’t bother to throw them away? Were they forgotten?
I know nothing about sunglasses. I’ve worn glasses since junior high and never really felt too tempted to pay extra for prescription sunglasses. (Though, I must say, my wife looks quite alluring in the new pair she got this year.)
This found pair appears worn. The printing on the inside has started to fade. Probably means it’s a cheap pair.
But as the sun rises I stop worrying about what tragic paths many might have walked in order to bring this busted pair of cheap glasses into my hands today. Instead I just choose to reflect on how everything that is broken can be repaired. We just have to figure out the way to do it.
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