It Slipped My Memory

Yesterday morning I turned on the tap that fills the butts from which the horses drink. At seven o'clock this morning I woke up wondering if I'd ever turned it off again.

Surely I must have, only I can't picture myself doing it.

Better check.

Out of bed- downstairs- put coat on over pyjamas- stride across frosted ground in bedroom slippers and-

It's going to be a big water bill this quarter.