L is for Luggage

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The Luggage had been waiting for quite some time. It felt like at least a year, but it might have been closer to a fortnight. It had been left behind quite by accident; the porter had been called away to an elderly lady having a funny turn and by the time he returned the train had already departed. Not wanting to give away its real purpose it had sat in a quiet corner of the lost property office biding its time. All that had changed yesterday however when a small ladies trunk with shiny brass fittings had arrived. Little by little the Luggage had moved surreptitiously closer, enchanted by the scent of cedar and beeswax polish. It opened its lid just a crack and let it snap closed, hoping to impress with the echo of its hidden depths and a hint of sapient pearwood. But she studiously ignored its advances, seemingly unaware of their close proximity. The following morning a woman in a fox fur and bright red boots had had her carried out to a Hansom. The Luggage stared disconsolately after the departing vehicle. A single drop of sap oozed slowly from its left hinge and trickled to the floor where it pooled and burned a small hole in the linoleum.

(Have never done Fan Fiction before, but when Monkey said Luggage the first thought was one of our favourite characters from Terry Pratchett's Discworld.)
(Words for my flash fiction A to Z supplied spontaneously by Monkey.)

(Linking back to the A to Z challenge)