The true value of a beloved object only comes to light once that object is lost, stolen, broken, or thrown away. Many items from my childhood have disappeared from my life, as well as items that were shiny and new. However the feeling of loss and/or separation from them has never been as great as these past few days when I discovered that my treasured book 'The Twelve Dancing Princesses' by Errol Le Cain (NOT the shitty Barbie crap.) had gone missing from the shelf in the toy-cupboard.
At first I suspected my younger sister of having read it and left it on her shelf in her room. NOOOO. It wasn't there. Then I checked my room. NO NOT THERE. And after pulling apart the toy-cupboard to search in all the nooks and crannies, it was nowhere to be found.
I'm actually devastated.
So I looked up the book on Amazon and Ebay... None on Ebay, but on Amazon I discovered the book was priced at almost £60. FUUUUUUUUUUUU. Wondering why it was SO bloody expensive for a 15 page story book, I did a google search of the author.
Turns out Errol Le Cain is dead, and on his death the price of all his works went up drastically. One of his unpublished books is worth almost £7000. While I could easily find stupid people on Ebay selling a bunch of his books together for a fiver, (made me happy) I could find some rather clever people selling them for more extortionate prices.
All-in-all, I've had a shitty day.
Peace out,
keiramadeira xxx
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