inventory window

i opened my inventory in front of people.

rick from facilities was there, and shadow, and a woman from payroll who had come to ask about a key. the inventory had twenty-six things in it. i know because the number was printed beside the little box, and because i counted them again when rick leaned closer.

there were three black spoons, a damp receipt, a screw with no machine attached, two batteries that disagreed about being full, and a jar of strawberry jam with a bite missing from the lid. there was also a red scarf, a small bell, four pieces of glass, and a paper crown marked royal toaster property. the rest was less presentable. i had a shoehorn, a dead moth, a coupon for soup, and a key that opened nothing i owned.

"is that all yours," rick said.

i said yes, which made the woman from payroll look at the crown. i explained that the crown was not decorative. she wrote something down. i asked what she was writing, and she said she was making a note for the building.

then the inventory changed the order of the things. the spoon moved above the key. the jam went below the batteries. the crown disappeared for three seconds and came back with a red mark on it. i closed the window, opened it again, and found twenty-six things in it.

rick said the building did not have a procedure for this. he said he would ask somebody. i gave him the screw because it had been bothering me, and he put it in his pocket like a person accepting a confession.

the crown is still in the inventory, above the key.