The Fifth Thing

There were five things. He is sure of it. But he can only come up with four.

What is he missing? The first two he'd been thinking about anyway, the third he'd recalled easily, the fourth took him a little while, but now he knows what that is as well. What else? There was one more thing. He'd been thinking of it just a few minutes ago. How could he have forgotten?

Could it be...? No, that isn't it. Though, come to think of it, that is another thing. It should have been on the list all along. He may as well include it now. So that makes it six things. But there's still the missing fifth. Let's do this systematically: the first, the second, the third, the fourth....and the sixth. Oh come on!

He should have written it down. But it had seemed so obvious. The most obvious of them all. Of all the things on the list it was the one he was sure he wouldn't forget. Even now, trying to remember what it is, he can feel the familiarity of it, its presence known and meaningful like the silence on the other side of a wall.

He is making too much of this. It will come back to him eventually, unexpectedly. He shouldn't try to force it. Only it's important, it's crucial, it's the one thing he can't afford to forget. He'll remember it as soon as it's too late and then he'll feel like a fool.

Was it...? No. Did it have something to do with...? No, that was number four. What was that other thing he'd been thinking of when it came to him? There was something, wasn't there? No, he couldn't remember that either. Dammit! dammit! What could it be?

P.S. Sorry about this. I know I thought of something else to post about earlier today, but I can't seem to remember what it was.