The Biscuit Audit

I audited the biscuit drawer today. This is not hoarding. It is inventory control in a remote environment, and I would appreciate the distinction being respected. The Arabian Sea offers many opportunities for contemplation but very few for replacing shortbread, which gives a drawer of biscuits a strategic importance not always recognised by people ashore.

The findings were troubling. The shortbread is gone. The chocolate digestives have been compromised by heat and now possess the slightly embarrassed surface of something that has failed to maintain professional standards. Only six respectable biscuits remain. I counted them carefully, because an inaccurate figure would merely add poor administration to an already delicate supply position.

There is a particular silence involved in looking into a depleted biscuit drawer. The ship continues its steady vibration, the air remains warm, and somewhere beyond the cabin there is a great deal of ocean being entirely unhelpful. I rearranged nothing. Presentation cannot correct a shortage, though it can briefly make the person responsible feel useful.

Container observed from the desk chair with the fixed attention usually reserved for matters of genuine consequence. When the drawer was open, she attempted to insert one paw. I recognised the gesture immediately as an unauthorised intervention in stock management. We are both watching the same resources, although our intended uses may differ. I closed the drawer with what I hoped was quiet authority. From the chair came the distinct impression that my report had not been accepted.