Paul’s passport is not in my “folder of important things.” Unlike when things usually go missing, I do not have that sick sensation of wrong in the pit of my stomac. I am strangely calm.
I’ve done a lot of cleaning and organizing in the past 20 hours since the discovery. I have even whittled down the unread (and mostly expired) messages in my yahoo account from 1056 to 1. I’m quite proud. I don’t remember when last I had such numbers.
The passport, however, was not there.
Strange, n’est-ce pas?