Damn! Where was it? Why was it always like this? The frustration, the frantic searching, the race for time? Would this always be the way? Take a deep breath, she thought to herself, ask St Anthony, he’ll know. St Anthony, St Anthony please look around, something is lost and must be found. Penny stood still, her eyes closed and her hands on her forehead - waiting for her beloved Saint to work his magic. But nothing, not this time, nothing. And look at the time, nearly ten, no, not again, please not again. There was always the alternative, of course , she knew that but who wants to go down that road? No, that’s like stepping back in time and Penny is a 21st century girl. Besides what about the next time and the time after that? No, impossible, it had to be found.
By now any calmness had left the room and Penny began the search in earnest. Throwing belongings aside, knocking things over, climbing high and looking down in the vain hope her eyes might alight on the sacred yearned for object. But no, nothing. All the while her thoughts turned to what she might miss, the fear, the terror, resolutions and solutions, odd couplings and passionate embraces. Mysteries solved and more beginning. It was too late to go and find a replacement, too late now, but always tomorrow. The clock said ten, the fight was over. Penny slid to the floor defeated. She lay on her stomach and crawled the mere distance she needed to do the inevitable. As she did, the familiar pale grey caught her eye. Her heart leapt and she reached out hoping it wasn’t a mirage.
Yes! Got it! All the time, jammed under the cabinet. She quickly tapped in the necessary numbers and voila.

The screen flickered and the title music of her favourite telly series Lost began. From now on, vowed Penny, that bloody remote is staying taped to the top of the set.