Lost and Found

car keys

Charlie was looking everywhere he could think of in the apartment, but he just couldn’t find them.

“Where did I put those goddam keys? Honey, did you see my car keys? I’m running late. Cindy, I can’t find my goddam car keys! Cindy? Cindy? Do you hear me?”

Cindy, who was in the master bathroom in the far end of the flat, called out to Charlie, “Did you check your jacket pockets?”

“Of course I checked my jacket pockets,” Charlie yelled back. “That’s the first place I looked.”

“Look again.”

“No! I told you. I already looked there. They’re not in my jacket pockets.”

“Look again,” she repeated. “This is a small apartment. There is only a finite number of places your keys can be. So indulge me. Look again.”

“Fine.” Charlie went to the coat closet, pulled open the door, and checked every pocket in his jacket. “Nope, they’re not in my jacket,” he yelled back. “See, I told you they weren’t in my jacket.”

Cindy, rather perturbed, as she, too, was running late and was still putting on her face, trudged from the master bathroom in the back of the apartment to the doorway in the front. She walked up to Charlie’s windbreaker, which was hanging on the coat rack by the front door, stuck her hand in the right hand pocket, and pulled out a key chain with Charlie’s car keys on it.

“What the hell, Charlie!” she said, highly annoyed.

“Oh, that jacket. Why the hell didn’t you say that jacket?”

Written for today’s one-word prompt, “finite.”

8 thoughts on “Lost and Found

    • Fandango September 7, 2017 / 9:41 am

      All too familiar in my household as well.


  1. Suze September 7, 2017 / 8:46 am

    WHY do men do that? It is so funny because it is so real!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Fandango September 7, 2017 / 9:43 am

      We see the big picture but often miss the small details.


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