Disney dreamcatcher with castle and charms

The box came in on Tuesday with the rest of the August lost property, and I have spent three evenings trying to decide what to make of it. Inside was a hoop of blackened wire shaped like two round ears, strung with feathers gone soft at the tips and a handful of charms that had clearly been torn off a bag by someone in a hurry. A brass lamp, a pewter fork, a red enamel apple, a spotted bow, a shoe with one heel missing. Someone had tied a wizard's hat of blue tin to the bottom with fishing line, and a single pink rose hung beside it, its petals still bright.

Tucked under the hoop was a card from the amusement arcade at the end of the pier, the one that sets off fireworks on Saturdays. On the back, in pencil, someone had written: Keep the hoop, I'll come back for the charms. Nobody has come. The castle on the hill behind the pier still throws its lights at night, and I find myself at the window at ten o'clock, watching for the bursts.

I have hung the thing in the office, where the damp won't reach it. Mrs Pelham from the bingo says it's a dreamcatcher with the wrong dreams in it, which I think is rather the point. Every charm is a small promise: a lamp to rub, a fork for a supper nobody cooked, a shoe that couldn't dance far enough.

If the owner writes, tell them it's safe here. I will keep the rose dry.

Yours, Irene Vosk