MicroHorror

I love my new house, my new job, my new husband, and my new life. What I love most are the small things like being able to put up another clothesline. My husband and I moved to this new town last winter, and now it is springtime. Spring is my beloved season, as what seemed extinct and dormant now comes alive. My own blood seems to begin to thaw.

My favorite pastime is hanging clothes on the line. I wash early every sunny, honeysuckle-soaked Saturday in the springtime. It has been four years, since my third husband hung himself, and it was time to start over again… with my fourth loving husband. So I am excited to hang clothes on the line, and enjoy nature’s fragrant air for the first time this spring. Starting over in this new town has been a dream thus far, and the people are very friendly. I cannot tell you how relieved I am to leave all the bloody memories of those dreaded people from my prior town behind.

The people were mean to me in the town I just moved from and called me horrible names. There was one name in particular that I actually liked, and that was Noose. That name has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Well, back to my story… the people from my old town watched out their windows carefully when I hung clothes out on the line, never spoke to me, and were afraid of me. In my opinion, they were just jealous of me. They were jealous of my clothes, my money, my jaguars, and me. Yes, I have three jaguars. I love jaguars. For the life of me, I can’t understand why some people are so obtuse. Fortunately, I never had to work. My former husbands were wealthy men. I find it amusing that these elite men find me so attractive, and quite frankly, who wouldn’t love the attention. After all, I always look good, and am always dressed to kill.

I get much enjoyment out of the feel of a clothesline. The way the line drapes over my fingers when I put it up, the fancy knots I practice making, and the intricate pattern of twists and turns that make it…well… a clothesline, has always fascinated and empowered me. When I buy clotheslines I always buy two sets, because for some reason, I always misplace a line. This is my fourth clothesline.

I have a ritual, if you will, when it comes to hanging clothes on the line. Certain items, in specific order, are hung on my line. First, my jeans, then my husband’s jeans, my tops, then my husband’s shirts, my socks, and last is my husband’s socks. Never do I hang my undies on the line, as it is not proper clothesline etiquette; however, the occasional pair of boxers is acceptable.

Funny thing is, the other clothesline is missing and so is my husband. I have not seen my husband for four days, and today is Saturday… my washday.

As I have said, certain items, in specific order are hung on my line. First, my jeans, then my husband’s jeans, my tops, then my husband’s shirts, my socks, and last is my husband’s socks, with the exception of the occasional pair of boxers. However, today I’m only hanging my jeans, my tops, my socks, and no boxers.

I wonder where my husband is hanging?