He had been in a big hurry, the morning he found out that Doris wasn’t dead.
He left the house and climbed into his car before noticing the note under his wiper. He sat staring at it for a moment. How could that happen? The car had been in the garage all night. Nobody would have access to get in and stick a note on it. He was annoyed because he was in a hurry. The meeting was an important one, and he was the chair this month. People were relying on him and he couldn’t let them down.
He got out and slammed the door. That made him feel a little better. He put his glasses on and pulled out the paper. A piece of paper, that’s all it was. It must have got trapped under the wiper coming home in the rain last night. It had been very late and in the dark he hadn’t seen it. Swearing, he yanked angrily on the door handle. It wouldn’t budge.
He peered in through the side window at his keys. They included his house key. That meant he couldn’t get into the house to get the spare car key. He looked at his watch. He didn’t want anyone else chairing the meeting, but it wasn’t looking good. He could break in of course. The house alarm was set, and the last time this had happened it was a nightmare. He had managed to get in through a window, setting off the alarm. The security company contacted the police. It took ages to convince them that he really was the homeowner.
He wandered around the side of the house looking for a window that wouldn’t trip the alarm. There was a small window on the second floor that probably wasn’t connected. Too high for any would-be burglar to attempt.
He took the ladder from the shed and leaned it against the house. At the window he stared at the fixings. He figured he could jimmy it open without too much trouble. He returned to the shed, shaking his head as he looked at his watch. He found a tyre lever and climbed back up. He carefully prized the window open. He nearly fell when the siren went off.
An hour later, the police had gone, and he was sitting in the lounge analysing the events of the morning. He was summing it all up. The night before he had come home late and had to record the latest episode of his favourite mystery show. Was Doris really dead? He had to ask the really hard question of himself; deep down, what were his priorities?
He called in sick and switched the telly on and started the recorder…