They’re not in your pockets. Not in your jacket either. You know that they don’t have feet, can’t walk off on their own. But it’s like they did. Doing that just to annoy you, to make your life more stressful, complicated.
You check the nightstand, which is where you usually leave them at. Right beside the silver-colored lamp. They’re not there, and you don’t have time to find them. You have to head out to work now, but you can’t drive without the car key. Can’t lock the front door without the house key either.
You frantically search for them, scouring through the bedroom, the living room, under the sofa, through the pockets of the pants you wore yesterday. Everywhere, it turns up empty.
Ten minutes past. You’re late for work. You know that traffic gets worse the later you leave. It’s like a mathematical formula: each minute you’re late adds four minutes to your trip. Your heart’s racing, your breathing is tense, nonstop. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind. All because of keys!
As you retrace your footsteps from that morning, as well as from yesterday evening, you suddenly stop. You realize it’s hopeless, that maybe you have to call in sick. Take the day off to find them. Waste precious energy to find something that should’ve been . . .
A light bulb goes off in your mind.
You storm out the front door and run to your car. You stop at the driver-side window and gaze inside. There they are–resting on the carseat. They had been there all night, quietly waiting for your return.
You pull the handle, but it’s locked. How are you going get in? Where is the extra car key? Where had you left it?
