A lesson for eighty-year-olds faced with lost keys and the collapse of a familiar way of life.
The key-fob was missing and La Profesora could not get back into her office. She had only gone to the 'ladies', locking her office door behind her. The search, of every conceivable place, had delayed departure by half an hour, and the chauffeur needed to get home as his 10-year-old was coughing blood in hospital.
All this led to a restless night of self recrimination, doom scenarios, and the listing of jobs for the morning with 'changing-the-locks' at the top.
Next morning the hair-dresser was due at 10am, but reported that the traffic in the city was 'blocked'. Further catastrophes loomed; what if she never arrived, nor the maid, nor the flowers! Finally sleep arrived.
With daylight, came a WhatsApp message from the profesora's faithful post-doc; the key-fob had been found; in the waste-bin in the Ladies, with the used paper towels! Then, on the dot of 10:00, a buzz from the concierge announced the arrival of the hairdresser.
The mind, now freed from its worries, could notice that the sun was shining, picking out the dazzling yellow jasmine on the house across the abnormally empty street. The tumbling world was back on its feet.
