This morning we returned from a weekly shop. We took the bags out the car and headed up to our flat in the lift.

We got out the lift, through the fire door and walked to our flat at the end of the corridor.

It was strange that each of the four flats in our corridor now all had doormats including ours. So in the hour we’d been out someone had placed a door mat in front of each door. We seemed to have the nicest. We both struggled for an explanation. The people in the opposite flat had also put their daughters bicycle away.

I tried the key in to door… it wouldn’t turn. I took it out and tried again with no more success. It was only at that point we both saw that we were trying to get into someone else’s flat… we were outside flat 85 on the 8th floor and not 105 on the 10th floor.

The lift speaks to tell you which floor you have arrived at, and yet with all the clues two grown adults took several minutes to realise they were not where they thought.