'Medina'

When I left, I realised that my indexes were blistering at the fingernails' base - I have yet to know why. That and that my wallet was not in my left trouser pocket. A few pats and it was revealed to me that I had taken my friend's house keys in the flurry (he will be moving to a new place soon and needs to return them to the landlord when he leaves - my misfortune that a copy of it was never made). My wallet turned up only after another scatterbrained search through my bag.

The time was such that I was not permitted to do anything else, but get a take-away and reach the platform where my bus would be leaving, so the keys came with me - three hundred kilometres northwards; to the Pearl of the Orient. A friend will get it to the courier tomorrow, only if we meet tonight. It is currently enclosed in a roll of bubble-wrap, cellophaned with post-its bearing our addresses: the receipient and sender.

I am not proud of my memory.

( _")