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These Walls Can Talk

By @astrid_hartman

The Death of the Dryer

A strange mystery started to happen at the Jefferson house. All of Mr. Jefferson’s socks began to go missing. 

“Grace, is the dog taking my socks?” Mr. Jefferson asked, walking out into the living room with his dress shirt unbuttoned, a sure sign that he was agitated. Mrs. Jefferson looked up from her laptop as the early morning light slanted through the blinds.

“What?” The Mrs. looked up, startled out of her writing frenzy. The keyboard could finally take a breather. 

“I don’t have any dress socks to wear to work today. I can’t wear my thick white socks. Everyone would think I’m a dork.” This earned a smirk out of his wife which only darkened his mood. “I’m not kidding, Grace. They’ve been disappearing here and there. Now the socks, they’re completely gone.” 

“Maybe the dryer took them, I believe I saw an article in our paper about a rise in sock disappearances.” Mrs. Jefferson mused as her husband exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Honey, why don’t you just wear the socks you wore yesterday?” 

The living room furniture barely contained their laughter at the shocked look on Mr. Jefferson’s face. The way he looked, you would have thought the Mrs. had just asked him to go to work as a clown. 

“I can’t do that!” He exclaimed, beginning to re-button his dress shirt.

“Why not, Will? I doubt any one will be looking at your shoes. Besides, can anyone even see your socks when you have your dress pants on?” She was met with only annoyed silence.

“No, they can’t.” Mr. Jefferson huffed, walking out of the living room and down the split-entry stairs to the basement washroom. There, he began digging through the small pile of dirty clothes, looking for yesterday’s socks.

Once the Mr. and Mrs. had left, the washer (who is the only on that the dryer will talk to) could not resist but to ask the obvious: “So did you take Mr. Jefferson’s socks?”

The dryer answered, though his reply was muffled due to his lint-filled mouth, “Why, I would never!” And so, the house just assumed that Boomer had stolen the Mr.’s socks which, forgive me for saying, is not hard to put past Boomer. 

Several weeks later, much to my sadness, I and the rest of my little community lost a great friend, the dryer. Though he rarely talked to anyone, he was still a part of my household. When the appliance men came to take the dryer, they began to pull him away from the wall but stopped short. 

“Hey, Mrs. Jefferson, you better come see this.” One of the men said and the walls, excited about the suspense, leaned in to see what was the hold up. 

“What is it?” Mrs. Jefferson came into the washroom, followed closely by Mr. Jefferson. 

“Look at what we found.” The men pulled the dryer farther away from the wall so that the Mr. and Mrs. could see more clearly. The walls gasped. 

“Oh my!” Mrs. Jefferson’s eyes went wide with surprise before she burst into laughter. 

“My dress socks!” Mr. Jefferson exclaimed.

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