It was a hell of a week. And it was only Monday…
It all started off with a bit of bad news, a lunch in which garlic was the starter, main course and dessert (more about that later) and a bad haircut. Fortified by these three factors, I sighed in relief as I waited at the platform for the homeward bound tram. I ran across our next-door neighbour (don’t worry – she wasn’t hurt) and we boarded the train together. I placed my laptop at my feet and stowed away my rucksack containing books, money and credit cards in the gap between the seats.
We launched ourselves into a deep discussion about life and school as the scenery flashed by. Before we knew it, the tram arrived at our stop and we got off. After only a couple of minutes, I realized that my back felt as empty as my brain obviously was… Now, where was that backpack with my entire life in it?
Ah yes – on the train thundering northwards.
I blame my neighbour for making me chat too much – because if I don’t blame her, then who else would I blame? … Precisely!
Luckily I had my phone with me so was able to contact the lost luggage division. Who informed me that the train driver only had a radio and couldn’t be contacted.
I arrived home in a mad state: bad haircut sticking up as if electrocuted by my panic, wild look in my eyes. I briefly explained what had happened and Sir Pe said that I could either come in and get warm and hope that my bag turned up at Lost Luggage the next day – or panic.
I did what any sensible person would do: decided to go for the full-blown panic.
I ran back to the station, half-sobbing and half-muttering to myself (see – I can multitask as well as the next nutter!) and waited for the train to come back.
The first train that arrived was not the train I had ridden on. Then I realized that my train would be going back to Stockholm as the fast train and wouldn’t be stopping at our tiny station.
So, what do you think happened?
This story will be continued tomorrow…