I sold every piece of jewelry you ever bought me. I cried. Then I went shoe shopping.

I told myself I was over and over until I believed it.

I've recently started to spot lost single gloves everywhere: lying crumpled on a snowy pavement, slouched in a seat on a tube carriage, dangling from a fencepost in the park, grubby hand outstretched from a garden wall. They seem so forlorn. Are there always this many, or have I only now started to notice them? Is it a winter thing? I've begun to take photographs of lost gloves, collect them and make labels of where I found them. I keep them together in a box.