…about a hat

It wasn’t much. Black, made out of common synthetic fleece, with a colored band around the bottom. No, nothing special except that it was Raymond’s hat and he couldn’t find it.

He yanked open the third drawer in the hallway dresser, pulling out mismatched gloves and scratched pairs of sunglasses. He dumped them on the floor as he shoved his right hand as far in as it would good. Raymond groaned when his hand met the nothing that was trapped behind the drawer. Spinning, he stalked to the coat rack and plunged his hand into his coat’s right outside pocket yet again. He found nothing there either, save for a couple of used tissues, where his hat should have been.

Raymond resisted the twitching in his leg that wanted him to kick the dresser’s drawer shut just to let off a little bit of his frustration. He took a deep breath. Hurting his foot or breaking the drawer, or both, would only make Molly angry too and Raymond was already angry enough for both of them. The frustration moved like a stone from his chest to his gut, loosening one and tightening the other. He sighed and opened his eyes. Scooping the miscellaneous pairs of gloves and sunglasses back into the drawer, Raymond made another black mark on the private permanent record against which he measured himself.

Speak Your Mind