.

Spun out of control. 
Bobbing then pommeled, squashed then bloated. 
A lone occupant within the confines of a tumble dryer 
at full spin.... 
An impatient hand lifts the lid off 
with deft, well practised fingers 
hopeful that in so doing would speed up the process. 

The spinning abruptly stops 
resuming only when the lid is firmly shut 
securely in place. 
With a banging and a rattling 
the tumbling ensues... digits lifting 
assured the interruption overrided. 

The mind opens to the fact that 
there is one entry and one exit 
on this front loader churning 
Its machinations moistens the 
dank air and frigid tiles with 
a slimy condensation. 

A final click breaks the dense 
silence. 
From inside the searing metal tub 
emerges a once bright red garment 
its fabric faded, familiar, and frayed.

.