Me this morning

I’ve patted the bed all over, the bedside cabinet too. Run my hands carefully along the window ledge, gently felt along the top of the dressing table with no success.

Finally, dropping to my hands and knees I begin to search the floor inch by inch discovering yesterdays newspaper, a ball point pen, a cold hot-water bottle, one dirty pop sock and assorted coloured fluff.

At last my other half speaks. “If you’re looking for your glasses they’re on top of your head.”