As I fold my laundry, I can see the city sprawling below. From nine stories up, the world looks so small. And so wide. I can see for miles. At night, houses and buildings are lit up, and a single church spire stands above the rest, bathed in a golden glow. I admire the patterns formed by the streets and moving garland of light that is the highway.
Meanwhile, my pile of warm clean clothes grows higher. Every once in a while, I drop a sock or two behind the dryers and wriggle my way against the window to retrieve them.
Eventually, I place everything in my basket and head back to my room.
Note to self:
-I cannot stand people who do not take the lint out of the filters despite the "CLEAN OUT LINT" sign.
-My sock-folding skills are at an all-time low. I don't know what's happened, I just can't seem to be able to neatly fold them anymore. Maybe I should practice more.
-Someone forgot a navy-blue sock in the dryer.
Meanwhile, my pile of warm clean clothes grows higher. Every once in a while, I drop a sock or two behind the dryers and wriggle my way against the window to retrieve them.
Eventually, I place everything in my basket and head back to my room.
Note to self:
-I cannot stand people who do not take the lint out of the filters despite the "CLEAN OUT LINT" sign.
-My sock-folding skills are at an all-time low. I don't know what's happened, I just can't seem to be able to neatly fold them anymore. Maybe I should practice more.
-Someone forgot a navy-blue sock in the dryer.
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