Dear Diary
There's a large antique sofa which is the designated throne for all washed and dried clothes to be dumped on and it currently lives beneath an Everest of clothes waiting to be folded and stacked for the past two days and I see their plight, the agony, the desperate hunger in their creases to be cleanly folded and ironed..alas. They are never bothered with and now I see small fabric dunes beginning to slowly stack up in various places.
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