The day I lost my mind was a Sunday. It was November and grey. I only noticed I’d lost my mind when I reached for it and found it wasn’t there. That’s how it usually goes, I guess.

I was in Sainsbury’s at the time. The cashier made a joke about the cherry tomatoes I was buying for our lunch. And it was funny, so I asked my mind to throw a smile or a little chuckle but nothing happened. I just stared at her and then at the wooden beads round her neck, and then at her name tag, Judy, and to the little tomatoes in their punnet. I took them and I paid and I left.

I looked everywhere. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it last. I looked under the passenger seat, and by the trolleys. And I realised I could have lost it any time between waking up that morning and the tomatoes.

I’m still looking.