Night Story
The story goes:
I sat on the couch and wondered whether I had locked the car.
I figured I hadn’t since I couldn’t remember doing it.
So I got up, put my shoes on, my coat and my scarf, too.
I went out in the cold and walked all the way to the car.
And it was cold.
It’s late March and it’s cold.
I hate that it’s cold.
I got to the car and checked and it was locked.
Of course.
Because I would never not lock the car.
What can I say. At least I can be proud to be paranoid.