She said it to herself often enough, more than once most days. It usually occurred to her later that she may have been hasty, stupid even.
Walking home from the shops, Emily slid her bag from her shoulder and ferreted about in it for the pear she’d just bought. She bit into it and slurped loudly, all in one less-than-neat movement. It was too juicy really; she should be leaning over her kitchen sink to eat this, or at least wearing a bib. What a mess.
Emily stood in the middle of the empty road with sticky fingers and a foolish feeling. She looked up, checking who’d seen her make an idiot of herself this time. Something caught her eye though. Doors are usually unremarkable in rows of terraced houses; but this one had a set of keys in the lock and there was no-one around.
“It’s probably just someone being forgetful, there was that time I left my keys in the car door overnight…” she thought, rolling her eyes and shaking her head remembering her stupidity. This isn’t the safest part of town at the best of times without an open invitation dangling from the lock.
She couldn’t just leave them there, could she? Did that make any sense whatsoever? After knocking hard three times – waiting a decent amount of time between each – she pushed the keys through the letter box, hearing them land on the carpet.
It was helpful, considerate and community minded. Emily nodded, affirming her belief that she’d done the right thing. She even daydreamed about being thanked for popping a gracious explanatory note through the letterbox. “Though I’m not entirely sure how they’d get in and read it” she puzzled, slightly guiltily, as she walked away.
Hours later Emily realised that she could have taken the keys out, brought them home and left her contact details on an apologetic note on the door.
She closed her eyes and tutted, “Rats”.