Laundry – Theme Fridays

The laundry hung on the line – flapped and snapped with the wind’s mood. Mary loved the smell of sunshine in her sheets and was convinced it made her dream of summer. Her little dog, Spike, a fearless terrier of questionable lineage, barked as the sheets tried to catch him. He growled fiercely at their attempts to ambush and tangle him.

“Shoo, Spike,” Mary waved the mutt off to protect her sheets. Particularly the oldens as she called them. Fragile, beautiful and made of linen and tatted lace and brought from Ireland by her great grandmother, Lil. So delicate and worn were they that Mary lovingly washed them in the tub with a drop of castille soap and a squeeze of lemon juice.

Mary only used these sheets when she was lonely and aching for family. Tom, was the love of her life and so she had traveled thousands of miles to be with him. To marry him and to make her life with him. Her family was distressed by Mary’s departure and warned of the isolation that would descend upon Mary once gone. But love knew no boundaries and Mary never regretted her decision to let love win out.

Still, a tear slid down Mary’s cheek as she caressed the sheet and she lay her face against it to feel the embrace of her faraway family. And she dreamed herself to the big kitchen table back there – for a laugh and a coffee.

“Hello, love,” Tom said, suddenly there and smiling great affection.

Mary’s eyes took in his beauty like a big gulping swig of joy. So tan, with a flash of white teeth and searing blue eyes – so able to wobble her knees with a wink. Mary flushed at being caught hugging her sheets and gave her true love a sheepish grin. “Caught again,” she giggled. “Hello, my darling,” and she traded her embrace with sheets for the man’s arms who gave her life meaning.

To see what laundry hangs on Jess’s line, go here. To see Christine’s laundry day adventures, go here.

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9 thoughts on “Laundry – Theme Fridays

  1. Um, would you think me weird if I said I found the picture sensual when I first looked at it?

    Another great piece of writing.

    Hey Widdle!
    No, actually I don’t find that weird at all. Although, perhaps that only means we are both weird, he? 😆 Thank you, I did enjoy this assignment.

    Annie

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  2. “she traded her embrace with sheets for the man’s arms who gave her life meaning.”

    I LOVE this line, and how it shows the gulf between her loneliness and her love. It’s a perfect ending to a lovely piece.

    Thank you, honey, it is my favorite line too. And isn’t it funny how I groaned so much when you sprung this theme and yet, this came out of it. This is why I love doing this, you don’t know where the idea will take you and what it will produce. Great, isn’t it?

    Love
    Annie

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  3. i love the sheets flapping in the breeze, grabbing for Spike. And what the sheets are in the story- a symbol of home and family and memory.

    This is a bittersweet piece. You wrote it beautifully. Great work again, Chica!

    I remember that when I was a child – the sheets on the line, chasing my dog and how he barked at them. Thanks, dear, I am proud of it, myself.

    hugs,
    Annie

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  4. I love this Annie. It makes me think of my grandmother with the washing on her line. A washing line stuck in time, with clothes props and everything. So many memories of playing in the backyard as a child with the washing flapping on the line.

    Hey Gem!
    Thanks. I know there is something about laundry snapping in the wind that harkens old memories, isn’t there? Glad you enjoyed it. BTW, I updated the book page.

    Annie

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  5. Ah, the things you can spin with just a topic! Wonderful words here Annie. I love the picture in my mind of sheets hanging on the line, snapping in the breeze. And I can almost smell the fresh air flowing through the threads of fabric like a warm knife through a stick of butter.

    Hey Teens, I seem to have missed this one. Yeah, the nostailgia of sheets in the wind really can create some interesting thoughts and images. I’m glad that you liked it. Thanks, honey.

    Annie

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  6. Actually, it made me teary for some reason. It was so moving. I loved it when my Mom hung out the clothes on the clothes line. They smelled so good. I can remember sniffing them when I was little. Now clothes smell like dryer sheets. Just not the same thing. My only other memory of clothes lines was cutting through the backyards of my neighborhood one night in the dark when I was about 12 years old. I was running and my mouth was open and I didn’t see the neighbor’s clothes line and the rope went right across my open mouth and stopped me in my tracks. Both sides of my mouth were bleeding and I ran the short distance home crying. My Mom was there to make things better. She always made things better.

    Hey Joanie,
    I think there is something very nostailgic about sheets on the line with sunshine and a breeze. There is for me – and this prompt took me there. My gosh, that must have hurt. I’m glad your mother was there to ease the pain.

    Hugs & Jugs,
    Annie

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  7. a romantic story annie, inspiring, written with
    a soft touch, like the fragrance of lemon and
    sunshine in linen.

    Hi Jade!
    Thanks for reading and for your nice words. Yeah, soft like fresh sheets flapping in the wind.

    Annie

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