This morning we turned the house upside down. Jacket pockets, the hallway drawer, the bathroom shelf. I even searched behind the couch, on my knees, with the flashlight on my phone. Grzegorz stood over me, repeating:
– I probably left it at a customer’s. Or at Zenek’s workshop. Don’t worry, they’ll find it.
Then the music stopped, and a message popped up on the dashboard screen. Big, white, taking up the entire display, because Grzesiu always connects his phone with a cable to make his navigation work.
“Marek the plumber: You left your glasses by my bed, I’ll bring them back on Thursday.”
I read it once. Then twice. Then the screen went blank and the radio started playing again as if nothing had happened.
My first thought was completely stupid: that Marek the plumber had a bed. The second one came a moment later and was worse. Because I knew this Marek. I mean, I knew his number. A year and a half ago, our bathroom faucet was leaking, and Grzegorz said he had the contact information for a good plumber, Marek, and that he’d call. Marek never showed up. Grzesiu finally replaced the gasket himself, and I forgot about it.
