Detectorist

In the distance a lone detectorist scours a newly cropped field hoping for treasure. I'm in a nearby lay-by taking five. Perhaps he knows something no one else does or likes to think that. So I was briefly reminded of the TV show, dry humour, back stories and escape, oh and the nice theme song. Out in the Fife countryside the other day on an appealingly warm and calm morning it almost seemed to be the perfect low key pastime. Like buying sets of slow moving lottery tickets and quietly waiting for some lazy, lost buried jackpot to be uncovered from the soft brown soil. You keep half of the treasure's value, the rest goes to charity and the historical item, once cleaned and catalogued, sits in some glass case in a dull museum. A small slip of card mentions you as the finder and the one who made the donation - all in a tiny font.

Of you go back out into fields, keep searching but never find anything else of significant value, then you die weather beaten and happy with a few quid in the bank. Your detection equipment hangs dusty and unused in the garden shed, all is forgotten. A few years later one of your grandchildren finds it, switches it on and is puzzled by the flickering LED display and the lack of functionality. As it has no screen or visible apps installed they throw it into the house clearance skip sitting on the driveway. The museum is currently closed because of a COVID-29 outbreak.