For half an hour they poked about in a happy dusty dream, through the junk and broken furniture and ornaments. It was like reading the story of somebody's life, Jane thought, as she gazed at the tiny matchstick masts of the ship sailing motionless forever in the green glass bottle. All these things had been used once, had been part of every day in the house below. Someone has slept on the bed, anxiously watched the minutes on the clock, pounced joyfully on each magazine as it arrived. But those people were long dead, or gone away, and now the oddments of their lives were piled up here, forgotten. She found herself feeling rather sad.
For a half hour, Jane and her companions explored a dusty space filled with discarded items and broken furniture, lost in a dreamy curiosity. She reflected on how each piece, such as a ship in a bottle, told a story of the past. These objects, once integral to someone’s daily life, now lay abandoned, evoking a sense of nostalgia and longing for the lives that once surrounded them.
As Jane examined the remnants of other people's lives, she sensed a profound sadness. The bed that had cradled dreams, the clock that had marked moments, and the magazines that had brought joy were all connected to individuals who had either died or moved on. This poignant realization about the transience of life and the inevitability of change filled her with an aching sorrow for the forgotten lives that once animated the space.