Ode To My Hella Old Washing Machine

a poem

The first time I opened your lid, the oldest and largest spider I have ever seen crawled right out, not even scattering in sudden panic, but rather slowly coming out of a slumber and slinking away. (I had to wait.)

Though I’d never seen or operated a machine older than you, microwave included, you worked, and I’ll bet you’ll continue to work with your twisty knobs and clackity clack noises, for another hundred years, through whatever apocalypse, we’re about to put us through.

#WritingPrompt: ode to your washing machine

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Hi, I’m Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她) and I’m glad I live in an era where washing machines exist and I can just dump clothes somewhere and they’ll become clean on their own. Isn’t that so wonderful? If I thought I hated chores now, I would have absolutely hated chores 200 years ago.