No Laundry Blues

Hillary Fields

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I stared at the laundry.

I stared long; I stared limpidly.  I stared with an impassioned intensity that promised much, if only…

I batted eyelashes; I pleaded breathlessly. Tender tears trembled at the tips of my lashes, and I sighed, longing.

‘Twould not do itself.

I changed tacks, swearing stormily, pouting, stomping my sockless foot (no socks left).

Still, ‘twould not do itself.

I bargained, I cajoled. I made promises I daren’t speak of.

‘Twould not, alas, take that small yet necessary leap into the machine.

At last, I threw in the towel (the towel was dirty too), and resigned myself to going commando.

I got the no laundry blues.

 

©Hillary Fields, 2017

Hillary Fields is a New York-based novelist and essayist. Her most recent novel is Last Chance Llama Ranch, published by Redhook books. Learn more at https://hillarymfields.com/

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