* David Noble walked up his garden path, having just left his mistress Julia, who lived just around the corner, and with whom he had spent the last couple of hours screwing in bed. Lifting up his key and placing it in the lock he tried to turn it, but finding it not moving rang the bell thinking that his wife must have put the lock on by mistake. After a few minutes the window next to him opened and her head poked out, ‘You’re home then.’ ‘Yes, sorry a bit late, I went for a couple of drinks with a client and the time just got carried away from me.’ ‘I don’t suppose the client was a woman, about five two, blond and well stacked?’ ‘What do you mean?’ Her head disappeared for a moment and then David watched as his golf clubs in his expensive golf bag came through the window, open top first so that his new set of clubs fell out hitting the ground before the bag followed. ‘You know the one, that client, the one that lives round the corner in the big house with the Weeping Willow and pond. Please." This won't last, you know. When I get my hands on ... on ... you know, on the thing..." he stopped talking, a growing look of puzzlement on his face. "Goddamnit," he spit out, "The thing that does the thing!" Which thing?" I asked innocently."The thing with the ... the ... the stuff!" he said. "The ... the stuff!!" Oh, that thing," I said. "Yeah, you can't remember that. You can't remember where it is, or how it works, or the last four or five crucial insights that let you take control of it." I paused. "You can't even remember what it does, exactly."I knelt down to look at him. "You can't even remember what it does. All you can remember is that you used it and it helped you. And now you can't even remember where it is or what is does. For all you know," I said, standing again, "this might be what you're talking about."He glanced at the dish I was pointing to. "Yeah, right," he said. "That's not it. It's the ... the... " his face contorted with effort. "The thing!" Yeah," I.
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