[ WP ] You arrive home to find your front door wide open . The place is trashed , but the TV and various valuables are all still here . You rush to your closet to make sure it 's still there . It 's gone .

My phone slipped out of my hand and hit the floor. No longer was I worried about the work I had on my desk in front of me, nor did I care about hunger, thirst, or that everyone in the office was looking at me. All of that was pushed back into my head- not mattering in the peripheral vision of my mind's eye. In my numbness, I did n't notice that I had grabbed my keys, put on my jacket, and headed outside until my boss asked me what I was doing. I looked at him like he had been speaking in tongues until I managed to stammer `` Wendy just called; my house was broken into.'' 
 
 
 His expression immediately changed from `` get back to work'' to one of shock. He mumbled, `` Jeez, uh, good luck...'' As some of our nosier coworkers started gossiping. However, I did n't care; I was n't there with them, I was n't in my car driving home, and I certainly was n't with my phone on the floor of my office, which I had forgotten. Only when I stood there did my mind fully return to me. 
 
 
 Wendy gave me a short-version of what had happened. She came home to find the door ajar, which was the first red flag. Entering our home, she gasps at the obvious ransacking that had befallen our house. She accounted for the TV and other valuables- everything was present, if messy. 
 
 
 When I entered the house, I stayed on autopilot until my feet found their way up the stairs and into our bedroom. I saw exactly what I'd feared most; my entire closet was gone. Just *gone*. No carpet, no doors- splintered wood littered the ground and area where the doorframe once was. 
 
 
 Wendy had followed me upstairs. She saw me staring at the empty space where my closet once was, and said what anyone other than myself would probably say. `` What the hell?'' I stared at the lack of a closet, and began to weep silently. After I had regained my composure thanks to her, Wendy went downstairs to greet the police that she'd called for. 
 
 
 While the sheriff and her debated how an entire closet could go missing, I knew the truth. The cop asked her if there were any openings wide enough for a whole closet to escape from our bourse through. No, she answered. The sheriff found their break-in guy and asked Wendy if there was anything worth this effort in the closet. They had no idea, which visibly perplexed the policemen. The sheriff then asked nobody in particular, `` And where did this closet go, dammit?'' 
 
 
 Technically, nowhere- It was in the same exact spot it was years ago. I wondered how many years it went.
