I was fascinated to read an article about the Museum of Broken Relationships, which houses “artifacts from failed unions, most of them mundane under ordinary circumstances. A single stiletto heel. A wine opener. A worn old Snoopy doll. But when isolated in a glass case or hanging on a white wall and accompanied by a caption, the objects become imbued with heartache or regret. Or freedom.” As an avid museum-goer, I’d love to visit.
Of course, one of the great joys in my profession is to ensure that no matter what obstacles my protagonists encounter, all will end well. Hmmmm. Maybe they should stock some romance novels in the gift shop . . . ?
More about the “brokenships” museum here.