Where did it go?

Yesterday, Sunday, I posted the happenings of the day and typed in another short story. But when I finished, I must have erroneously clicked the wrong button, because everything disa-ppeared forever. Now I have not the ambition to retype the short story. We very much enjoyed the visit Sunday of our two daughters. The eldest needed carpentry advice on putting beds in her newly acquired Ford Van. She and two female friends cooperate in garbering (making costumes ) for Medieval Faire participants. These Faires are held over weekends, and it is nec-essary to remain overnight on the premises in the out-of-doors. Motels are either miles away or too expensive. Thus the need for the carpentry work.

The short story: Occasion For Worry:

As she, her husband, and his friend Louie walked through the Patton Museum outside of Fort Knox, she found no interest in the machinations of war. The lighting was poor, and at 70 yrs., trying to read at less than 100 watt illumination made her stomach queasy.
Her husband sensed her restlessness, and handing her the keys to the car, suggested she wait for them outside. Gratefully, she took the keys.
A short visit to the Ladies' room, and a short walk in the fresh air, and she settled to wait in the warm sunshine and a breeze from her open window.
Lulled into a tranquil, half-awake state, she was vaguely aware of the sound of running feet behind the car, then was fully aware when a hand tried the driver's door. It was locked. Instinct made her snap the lock on the passenger side, and she had her window almost closed when a hand tried to come through the opening.
She applied pressure to the knob and succeeded in trapping the intruding hand at the first finger joints.
At a yelp of pain, she moved her head so she could look into the angry face at the window. Expletives flew, but she held the window firmly against his fingers when he tried to force the pane of glass down with pressure from the flat of his other hand against the glass.
A rush of footsteps sounded from behind the car and four MP's surrounded the trapped man.
"You can lethim loose now, Ma'am," an MP grinned in at her by lowering his face to the windshield, "and thanks, he ran us a merry chase."
She lowered the glass and the intruding fingers were pried from it.
"You lousy old bitch!" was her reward for freeing his fingers.
The group was long gone when her husband returned with his friend to the car.
"Sorry we were so long, but we watched a slide presentation in the Auditorium."
"That's okay, I enjoyed sitting in the April sun." was all she replied. Why make him worry the next time she spent time alone?
But she did wonder what might have happened if the driver's window had also been open. Mayve there would have been an occasion for worry.