Lost and found
The universe create black holes in every home. Places where things appear and disappear. One moment you're turning the house over looking for your car keys, the next minute they're sitting in plain sight, right there on the table where you left them. Where you looked for them first, but they weren't there. Now they are. How does that happen?

Elves? Magic? No, as I said, black holes.

Black holes eat the book you are currently reading -- moving it from your bedside table, where you are sure you left it, to the top of your dresser, where it has no place to be. Black holes steal your shoes, vanish your checkbook, and have a particular fondness for magazines.

At times these black holes are extra mischievous. You will give up looking for green sweater and wear the blue one instead. Days later, when you are not looking for a sweater at all your green sweater will suddenly appear on the back of a chair.

When more than one person (or one person and one cat) share a home, it is easy to blame these disappearances on the other person. "What did you do with the scissors?" You will ask, only to be met with a blank stare and an assurance that the last time the scissors were used they were dutifully put back in the drawer where they belong. But from long experience I can attest that the other person is rarely at fault. It's the black hole.

After a week of looking for one particular book that I had all but given up on, I found it entirely unexpectedly on top of a bunch of other books -- where I am positive I searched days ago.

Damned black holes.