First Writing Prompt Attempt
Think of an object in your house. Imagine a whole history for it, and write it as a story.
I think this is truly going to be a challenge for me because I really have not been using my imagination much lately…!
Immediately when I read the prompt, I knew that the object I wanted to use was a washing machine. I could picture the opening scene/the machine's first memories. Now, developing that into a story and coming up with an ending... that is what has always stumped me. I have never been good with endings.
Well, here goes. Of course, you will only be reading this once I have a complete story to post. So just know that I began this story's journey on Wednesday, April 3, 2019, and finished on Wednesday, April 22, 2020.
******
My first memory is of a growing blinding light, accompanied by the sound of ripping, a biting wind, and human hands touching me, tipping and pulling me out of my comfy box and packing. Then I recall being maneuvered through the house, down a tight and narrow staircase, and being poked and prodded with wires and hoses. That was the day I arrived here, in this very house, why... it must be 30 years ago! I can look back on those days now with fondness, but at the time, I was dreadfully frightened.
The first wash cycle I ran was most interesting. I hadn't quite known what to expect. When my belly started filling up with water, and the soap started to foam, and the clothes were added and began growing heavy with the soapy water... I didn't know what to do! Thankfully, instinct took over and I began jigging and jiving, twisting my agitator to toss the clothes around and beat the dirt out of them, then I spat out all that dirty soapy water so I could do it all again for my rinse cycle. Spinning the majority of the water out of the clothes was always my favourite part, and I remember that first time thinking, "Wheee, this is fun! Faster! Faster!" Nowadays, I get a little dizzy and maybe don't do quite as good a job as I once did. Sometimes my agitator doesn't do all it's supposed to, either. But I haven't given up yet, and my humans obviously haven't given up on me yet either.
It's quite something watching a human family grow up. When I was first installed, there were three children; a teenager and two younger children. No babies for me. My predecessor had the, ahem, privilege of washing all those baby clothes and cloth diapers one hears about. That's not to say there weren't plenty of things to wash! And I did my level best to beat the stains out of all those little clothes. Little clothes that gradually became bigger as the children aged. In the early days, it was mostly always the mother who fed the clothes into my belly, occasionally the teenager. But as the years went on and the children grew, they began to feed me as well. Sometimes I would play games and hide their socks under my agitator, just so they would have to nearly climb inside to reach them!
One might think it would be lonely living in the basement of a big house, only seeing people once or twice a week. But, I had my faithful dryer companion across from me all along. We became fast friends as we shared the duty of clothing our family. The furnace is nearby as well, we can't see each other, but we exchange pleasantries from time to time, and in the colder months I see my family pass by more often to feed him. There has also been a steady parade of cat companions. Imagine, these humans inviting animals into their homes to roam free! I certainly have tried to beat the pet hair out of their clothes as well, but I don't like to do it. It clogs up my hoses and makes me sneeze. Oh, the cats don't bother me so much really, though, because they do keep me company and occasionally warm my lid. I remember once in those early years, a whole litter of kittens tumbled and gamboled around my legs for a time. They did make us laugh, those mischievous little fluffballs. They were only meant to stay a few days, but one of them hid behind me while his brothers and sisters were being collected, the cheeky gaffer. He and his mother kept us company for many years after that.
Goodness, thinking about all the years that have gone by, the gallons of water I've gulped, the pounds of clothes I've tossed around... it sure makes one tired...
Ah, here someone comes now, with another armful of clothes. Duty calls, I'm afraid, and I really must put all my focus into my task. As I said before, I don't do the job quite as well as I used to...
I think this is truly going to be a challenge for me because I really have not been using my imagination much lately…!
Immediately when I read the prompt, I knew that the object I wanted to use was a washing machine. I could picture the opening scene/the machine's first memories. Now, developing that into a story and coming up with an ending... that is what has always stumped me. I have never been good with endings.
Well, here goes. Of course, you will only be reading this once I have a complete story to post. So just know that I began this story's journey on Wednesday, April 3, 2019, and finished on Wednesday, April 22, 2020.
******
My first memory is of a growing blinding light, accompanied by the sound of ripping, a biting wind, and human hands touching me, tipping and pulling me out of my comfy box and packing. Then I recall being maneuvered through the house, down a tight and narrow staircase, and being poked and prodded with wires and hoses. That was the day I arrived here, in this very house, why... it must be 30 years ago! I can look back on those days now with fondness, but at the time, I was dreadfully frightened.
The first wash cycle I ran was most interesting. I hadn't quite known what to expect. When my belly started filling up with water, and the soap started to foam, and the clothes were added and began growing heavy with the soapy water... I didn't know what to do! Thankfully, instinct took over and I began jigging and jiving, twisting my agitator to toss the clothes around and beat the dirt out of them, then I spat out all that dirty soapy water so I could do it all again for my rinse cycle. Spinning the majority of the water out of the clothes was always my favourite part, and I remember that first time thinking, "Wheee, this is fun! Faster! Faster!" Nowadays, I get a little dizzy and maybe don't do quite as good a job as I once did. Sometimes my agitator doesn't do all it's supposed to, either. But I haven't given up yet, and my humans obviously haven't given up on me yet either.
It's quite something watching a human family grow up. When I was first installed, there were three children; a teenager and two younger children. No babies for me. My predecessor had the, ahem, privilege of washing all those baby clothes and cloth diapers one hears about. That's not to say there weren't plenty of things to wash! And I did my level best to beat the stains out of all those little clothes. Little clothes that gradually became bigger as the children aged. In the early days, it was mostly always the mother who fed the clothes into my belly, occasionally the teenager. But as the years went on and the children grew, they began to feed me as well. Sometimes I would play games and hide their socks under my agitator, just so they would have to nearly climb inside to reach them!
One might think it would be lonely living in the basement of a big house, only seeing people once or twice a week. But, I had my faithful dryer companion across from me all along. We became fast friends as we shared the duty of clothing our family. The furnace is nearby as well, we can't see each other, but we exchange pleasantries from time to time, and in the colder months I see my family pass by more often to feed him. There has also been a steady parade of cat companions. Imagine, these humans inviting animals into their homes to roam free! I certainly have tried to beat the pet hair out of their clothes as well, but I don't like to do it. It clogs up my hoses and makes me sneeze. Oh, the cats don't bother me so much really, though, because they do keep me company and occasionally warm my lid. I remember once in those early years, a whole litter of kittens tumbled and gamboled around my legs for a time. They did make us laugh, those mischievous little fluffballs. They were only meant to stay a few days, but one of them hid behind me while his brothers and sisters were being collected, the cheeky gaffer. He and his mother kept us company for many years after that.
Goodness, thinking about all the years that have gone by, the gallons of water I've gulped, the pounds of clothes I've tossed around... it sure makes one tired...
Ah, here someone comes now, with another armful of clothes. Duty calls, I'm afraid, and I really must put all my focus into my task. As I said before, I don't do the job quite as well as I used to...
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