Monday is washday Sunday night sees piles of clothes segregated in lights and darks reds and prints, huddled together dreading the morning. Machines go through their cycles pour, churn, whirl, whir. Monday air is sweet with dryer sheets damp with clothes-horse hangouts. A half hour in front of the TV pairing, folding, and—Voila! our closets… Continue reading Monday is washday (NPM ’16-Day 12)
Violet Nesdoly 