I have fallen in with the wrong kind; I, who was created from precious matter. My maker described me as bespoke, that is made to order. Elements linked together by joints to move with ease and baby-like in character, that`s me. My packaging was beautiful but made to be thrown away as all such things are. After my wrapper was torn away in a hasty manner, someone looked at me briefly and then ignored me because other things claimed attention. Small and delicate as I am, disregard caused me to be ditched along with the packaging, by mistake for sure.

Now I am in the wrong site altogether; never should be here. All around is utter rubbish that shall be nameless. Did I say that I have a name? Definitely a feminine one, although I cannot read it. In my proper surroundings that name would be mentioned over and over again. All this trash in which I am lying is detrimental to my condition for I shall deteriorate fast, losing my lustre and even finishing up as a mere framework. I have a horror of not being looked after properly. Please, someone, please find me or my looks will be marred for life.

I have been picked up and carried to a soft nest. Infinitely better than the first situation but I`m still not in my right place, the babies around me are not like me at all. They might eat me! Perhaps not. I hope for better things. I have been picked up again and carried in a dark place, travelling. I know this because I have travelled before and I have great hopes of coming into my own.

My hopes are realised now and people are admiring me, picking me up and carrying me around showing me to other people. There is a lot of head-shaking because they don`t know to whom I belong. The name I possess restricts my popularity. Now I am lying on a table and I have a label on me with numbers on it but I can`t read the numbers. I am being picked up and scrutinised, turned over and over and people are arguing about me. Well, not about me but about the numbers really. What`s this? Now I am grabbed and I am travelling again. Where on earth am I going? Someone is shouting but I shall not even try to translate the words.

"I`ve found it, after all this time. The silver bracelet that Aunt Maud had made specially for the Christening. You remember, we couldn`t find it after we cleared up after the party."