Finding a lost passport

Where is my passport, I asked myself. Casting back my memory, somewhere in the depths of it I would retrieve an image of where the bloody thing was put. It wasn't working, I could see the passport in it's black leather cover, all nice and neat but I couldn't see where I'd put the thing. I just knew it was somewhere and should be in my possession. Like a tip of the tongue word which is difficult to articulate, the same thing was happening with this document. Last night I found myself in a half panic mode, but resisting the urge to panic I did something completely different. I said to myself to check first my locker at work, I'd taken it in and may have left it there. I resisted hard the temptation to blind panic, given I'd already told Sparkling she had to find her's so we could go on holiday. How awful it would be for Sparkling to be standing at the airport walking to the plane and me waving her off because I couldn't find the blooming thing. No she wouldn't go without me, I was way to important for her to go on her own, she'd need someone to talk to, well I hoped so. This morning I then checked my work locker, pulling out the box and the empty of sweets, sweet tin. Nope, it wasn't there. Hmm, this is interesting. It meant the fiendish fellow was at home. I checked another locked cupboard at work but my memory was not linking any imagery with this. I had to keep cool. Keep calm, it would turn up, the next search would have to be at home.

So after work rather than go straight home in a panic I went to the pub, there I had a couple of very nice red berry cider drinks. They did wonders in relaxing me, I had to search again but I was chilled and really if the thing didn't turn up then I'd have to put into process another set of cogs and apply for a new one regardless of the cost.  The first thing was to check every coat I'd worn over the last couple of months, even a coat I'd worn yesterday and had already searched. It was all about process and elimination. Having to find something is always about elimination, but also I was thinking to myself, there are times when you see a thing you are looking for but don't recognise it because it is not facing you the right way. I imagined my passport on it's side, at a different angle. I imagined how best it would be to feel the pockets even after putting my hand inside them, just because if I had missed a part of the coats then I'd know how a hard passport would feel. As I said to my fellow drinking companion, when I returned home it would be another shallow surface search followed by a deep search. A deep underground search where every single nook and cranny is turned over. One which would take a long time and be exhaustive and eliminating. Yes the cider had helped a lot. The coats had been checked. What I did find was an old MP3 player I hadn't seen for about 8 months, which would be a kind of consolation prize. I kept thinking and searching in a relaxed way. Next I thought of the bags I carry to work. The one I'd been using the past couple of weeks, searched again even though I knew it wasn't there, then I saw the bag I had used a couple of months ago. Yes I thought. It has got to be there.  As I picked up the bag the image in my memory got more salient and I unzipped the pocked I had seen. Bingo, there it was.  Two fat ladies and a picture of me in a black leathered passport. How happy I am.

This means I can go on holiday with Sparkling, it means I can run away from all the pains and strains of the Fish Factory. It means I will be free, somewhere, if only for a short time with the woman I love, and she'll not have a man called Jose with a mexican moustache and olive skin pouring her drink.  All I have to do now is find a holiday.