Spilled out onto the floor are boxes and boxes of handbags and small canvas sacks. Photographs of family and loved ones. Rosary beads. Tickets. Silver spoons. Sets of keys, presumably for the hall door. Seashells, lipsticks, mirrors, combs, vanity compacts, birth certs, travel visas, letters, cutlery, cards, false teeth, prayer books and diaries. More letters, case notes, hospital management records.
Taking away someone's handbag and other personal possessions was part of an institutional process of "depersonalising" the person. What does that remind me of? I can't help but think of the trains to concentration camps, the gulags.
Yet this isn't crime fiction from a faraway country. It's a real slice of Ireland's dark history, which took place just around the corner from where I live.