Rage Over a Lost Thing
Sit down.
Breath.
It can’t be as bad as all that.
I need it now.
I just had it.
Or was that yesterday?
I put it in a drawer then moved it to a place I would never forget.
Where is that place?
Somewhere logical.
What was I thinking at the time?
Ah, here. No.
Here. No.
I remember it was red.
Well sort of.
Nothing red in sight.
Too much stuff.
Maybe I don’t need it as much as I thought.
But I really do.
I give up.
It will turn up tomorrow.
No it won’t.
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