THE LOST SUDOKU

I said, ‘my daughter’s eighteen today.’
She said, ‘oh, what are doing?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, ‘she lives two hundred miles away north.’
‘Is she a good daughter?’
‘She’s lovely.’
‘Just like her father,’ she said.
‘She’ll do better than me.’
‘That’s what we all want for our children, isn’t it?’
I shared the lift with a grape on the way up to the flat. It was on the floor in the corner beneath the buttons. It was whole and green.
I looked at it most of the journey.
‘I wonder how long it’ll stay unsquashed and if when I use the lift next will it be squashed and if so who’ll’ve done it,’ I thought.

UPDATE

Going out the grape was gone.
Coming back where the grape had been was a piece of silver foil, a dark brown cigarette end, and a square of milk chocolate.