An investigation into objects apparently capable of relocating themselves.
There is a peculiar phenomenon occurring in homes everywhere.
Objects move.
Nobody moves them.
Nevertheless—
they move.
The scissors that have lived in the same drawer for twelve years?
Gone.
The television remote?
Gone.
Your glasses?
Gone.
The pen you were holding approximately fourteen seconds ago?
Gone.
Obviously, something is happening.
This is important.
Before beginning any investigation, announce loudly:
“WHO MOVED MY ______?”
Do not search first.
Searching first suggests the possibility that you may have misplaced it.
We cannot have that.
😂
Someone elsewhere in the house will respond:
“I didn't touch it.”
Excellent.
We now have our first suspect.
You check the usual place.
Nothing.
You check again.
Still nothing.
This second inspection is important because sometimes objects feel guilty and return between searches.
You look beneath things.
Behind things.
Inside things.
You open a drawer that has absolutely nothing to do with the missing object.
Why?
Due diligence.
Eventually someone asks:
“What are you looking for?”
“The scissors.”
“Did you check the drawer?”
You stare at them.
No.
In twelve years of keeping the scissors in the scissors drawer, it never occurred to you to check...
the scissors drawer.
🤣
You explain, perhaps with unnecessary intensity:
“YES. I CHECKED THE DRAWER.”
They walk over.
Open the drawer.
And—
there are the scissors.
Silence.
This is unacceptable.
You know this.
You looked.
Twice.
Possibly three times.
The other person picks them up.
“They're right here.”
Yes, Deborah.
We can all see that now.
That is not the issue.
They were not there before.
😂
The investigation has escalated.
You search the table.
The bathroom.
The bedroom.
Your purse.
You retrace your steps.
Eventually someone looks at you strangely.
“What?”
“Your glasses?”
“Yes?”
“They're on your head.”
...
This information is not helpful.
🤣
This deserves special recognition.
You cannot find your phone.
You become increasingly concerned.
You check your pockets.
The couch.
The counter.
The bathroom.
You tell the person you're speaking with:
“Hang on. I can't find my phone.”
There is a pause.
A very specific pause.
Then:
“What are you talking to me on?”
We don't discuss what happens next.
This is a judgment-free institution.
😂
This is advanced-level disappearance.
You're looking for the pen.
While holding the pen.
You move papers around...
with the hand holding the pen.
You check beneath the notebook.
Nothing.
Then suddenly your eyes notice your own hand.
Oh.
There you are.
You and the pen agree never to speak of this again.
This is perhaps the most dangerous phrase in the English language:
“I put it somewhere safe.”
Oh dear.
Where?
Nobody knows.
The object is now safer than any object has ever been.
Possibly permanently.
Months later, while looking for something completely unrelated, you find it.
“THERE you are!”
You hold it triumphantly.
Then immediately forget what you were originally looking for.
The cycle continues.
There are objects that should never be in the refrigerator.
And yet—
occasionally—
there they are.
Keys.
Phone.
Remote.
Something you apparently placed down while putting away groceries.
You open the refrigerator looking for mustard and discover an item from the living room.
There is a moment when you simply stare at it.
The object stares back.
Neither of you has an explanation.
Close the door.
Perhaps you're not ready.
“Did YOU move it?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because it was right here.”
“I didn't touch it.”
“Well, somebody did.”
Ah.
Somebody.
The most active resident in every household.
Somebody left the light on.
Somebody finished the milk.
Somebody moved the scissors.
Somebody put an empty box back in the cupboard.
Nobody has ever actually met Somebody.
But frankly, they are becoming a problem.
🤣
You search for twenty minutes.
Everyone searches.
Cushions removed.
Drawers opened.
Questions asked.
Character witnesses interviewed.
And then...
you find the missing object.
Exactly where you put it.
Someone looks at you.
You look at them.
They begin to smile.
Don't.
Don't you dare.
You quietly pick up the object.
“Found it.”
“Where was it?”
There are questions that do not require answers.
After extensive investigation, The Haven Department of Misplaced Things has determined:
Objects are innocent.
Probably.
Humans occasionally put things in strange places and immediately erase the event from memory.
Probably.
Scissors may possess limited teleportation abilities.
Investigation ongoing.
The next time something disappears, before accusing another member of the household—
check:
your hand,
your head,
your pocket,
the place it belongs,
the place you already checked twice,
and, for reasons we cannot adequately explain...
the refrigerator.
If it still cannot be located:
Proceed immediately to:
“WHO PUT THAT THERE?”
The Department supports you.