street pathos

The sight of an old radiator leaning against a brick wall, or a crimson sofa plonked in an alley, sodden with rain, calls for a category of emotion all of its own. A pathos of unwanted possessions. It is hard not to anthropomorphise these inanimate goods, left on the street. I am more likely to feel sorry for them than frustrated by their unlovely existence, blocking my way as I scurry along to the shops. The fact that they have been dumped, removed from their homely context, stirs a strange pity. Poor fan heater. Sad bedstead. Pathetic fridge. They offer intrigue, too, to the landscape of the street, so that it comes as both a relief and a disappointment when something is claimed. No longer there, just a gap where it used to be, like a child’s missing tooth.