When reaching for the comb this morning, it was not there.
Neither was it anywhere else. A search of the room revealed nothing.
The room is at the Hilton in Brisbane.
The comb is a cheap coloured plastic men's hair comb.
A detailed search revealed nothing.
A thorough ransacking of the room & luggage revealed nothing.
It was there yesterday morning, on the vanity unit.
Today it is gone.
My mother bought it for me when I was a nipper.
It is the only comb I have ever owned.
I have used that comb on my hair every day for 34 years.
3 comments:
I know the feeling, I've still got the scissors and nail file I bought 40 years ago. Time and money are completely different values.
You're lucky to still need a comb.
Thanks Sackerson.
The comb had been with me everywhere, in stock camps, to every job I've had, to school, all around the south pacific, all over the world, etc etc.
I thought it would last forever.
Ah well. A day or so of reproach, for letting it be where chambermaids could scoop it up with the towels (or something)
Oh no.... I'm so sorry! I can imagine the chagrin. I've got a pair of tweezers from my grandmother that I won't let anyone else use.... well... except for my daughter.
Post a Comment