Once upon a time...

...there was a boy. This boy was feeling blue so he called up to talk to his friend to see if she could cheer him up. Now this friend lives in a far away country filled with snow and trolls and affordable yet stylish furniture. So the boy is talking to his friend and he says, "Friend, is it not sad that I am here and you are so far away." and his friend agreed. "If only we could see each other", said the friend. "Then we would not feel so blue."

Now the boy was sad and wished that he could find a way to see his friend in the far away land of ice and trolls and reliable cars and make the blues go away. By a stroke of good fortune, a little Irish man heard his wish. "Never fear, disconcertingly tall boy", said the man. "I can fly you to see your friend across the sea in the land of snow and trolls and raw fish." The boy smiled at the man, but then looked crestfallen. "I am but a poor boy, so cannot spare much in the way of payment for your kind offer." But the man smiled a knowing smile, "Never fear, o shaven-headed one, for I will fly you to see your friend and I will not charge you a penny. Sadly the queen demands a payment from all who fly, but that will not be onerous."

So the boy skipped with joy and called up his friend in the far off land of ice and trolls and nude swimming. "My wish was granted dear friend", he said. "I can fly to see you!". The friend laughed with joy and said, "I have a special plan. In two months I shall travel to the big city where our other friends live. If you also fly to that city we can all be together and no one will feel blue." The boy agreed that this was an excellent plan, so he called up and told the Irish man the news.

The boy was excited, but a little sad that he had such a time to wait before he could see his friends. He was overcome with a melancholia, but took some comfort in the thought that he would soon be reunited with his dear friends who now lived so far away.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and before he knew it the time had come for him to fly with the little Irish man to see his friend in the land of snow and trolls and overpriced alcohol. The day before his travel, the boy went to gather his possessions to carry with him to see his friend. He made sure to pack the special warm clothes he had bought, as well as his books of foreign tongues. He took his letter from the Irish man and stowed it safe. He packed everything safe, then went to his special box to get his passport.

But when he opened the box, the passport was nowhere to be seen. "What a silly person I am", said the boy. "It must be in my bedroom in the other box." But it was not. The boy searched high and low throughout the house for many hours, but the passport was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, a spark of a memory hit him. His sister had been looking at it and laughing at how tired and angry he looked in the photograph. So he called his sister up to ask her if she still had it, but there was no reply. He called her friends but no one knew where she might be, until finally someone was able to say. "She is at the cinema.", said the woman. "She is watching a film. The film started at 10." It was late now, for the boy had been searching for many hours. He decided he must wait until his sister returned from the cinema, which should not be long." Minutes turned into hours and still no call came, so he once more tried one of her friends and struck lucky. Yes, she was there. Yes, she did remember looking at the passport when they were out one day, but no, she did not remember keeping it. Soon the sister returned and they searched high and low once more for the passport, but to no avail.

By now the hands of the clock were pointing to the new day and his luck showed no sign of improving, when he was struck by another memory. He could remember having the passport with him when he went with another friend to listen to music play. Had he given it to her to look after? His memory was vague, for at the time he had been much troubled with a fever, but there was a distinct recollection of entrusting it to her safekeeping. The hour was late now, so he sent a message to his friend to call him upon waking, and went to try for the fitful sleep of the guilty.

Three short hours later and he awoke. Had his friend found the precious passport? He spoke to her but his hopes were in vain. "Not me", she said. "You did not entrust you passport to my keeping". The boy was sad, but did not lose heart. "If I cannot find this one I shall secure myself another!", he exclaimed. He had done this before when a similar misfortune had befallen him, so called up the queen's servants for their counsel. But no! His luck was gone! "Times have changed, o absent-minded one", said the queen's servant. "As your passport is mislaid, we must now required seven whole days to present you will a replacement."

The boy was now more than downhearted. He could no longer travel to the land across the sea filled with ice and snow and trolls and dear friends. The hour was too late to call the Irish man and ask for another time. The time was long gone when he could obtain refund for his lodgings. And even if he could, this was to be the only time when he could hope to see all his friends together. "Fuck this", he said. "I don't know why I even bother to try for anything good. It always goes wrong." and he cursed himself loudly for being such a fucking idiot to lose his passport in the first place. He then took pen to paper to write the sorry tale, and to try and express quite how much he was hating his own stupid disorganised self at this moment. His only talent is to ruin any hopes of happiness.

And with that he went off to wallow in self hatred and self pity for the foreseeable future.

...The End

Yes, I'm an idiot for losing my passport. Why was I carrying it around, you may ask. Well, in one of my other bits of absent-minded stupidity, I managed to get my debit card stolen, so I had needed the passport as ID to get some money. Don't ask why it took until the night before my flight before I'd noticed it was gone. IDDBID

Update! 9th March, 2003

I've found the bloody thing. I'm currently moving house, and found it under the box in which I'd first looked. How the fuck I managed to not see it when I spent 12 hours turning the house upside down I don't know. At least I don't have to fork out £33 for a new one now. I feel like even more of an idiot now.