No Dirty Dishes

Sona stared at the mound. It tottered, just slightly, for no apparent reason other than size.

She had been avoiding this for a long time. Too long. Far, far too long. So today was the day.

Sona started by lifting – carefully – a few dishes at a time out of the sink. They rattled, and she nearly lost them a few times, but she did it, clearing just enough space to get started.

Turning on the tap, Sona began.

Twenty minutes later, she had finished the dishes that were still stacked in the sink. The first pile on the counter was next, and she needed new water. Draining the sink, she started filling it again, washing dishes as she went. The drying rack was long since full, and she now had most of the counter covered in dishes on top of towels.

When the pile was done, and she needed new water again, Sona drained the sink, did some drying, and started anew. Two more piles, and drying needed doing again.

She stopped for a few minutes, when the drying was done. She reached into the fridge, grabbed a beer, and finished it a minute later. Then back to work.

It was another hour before the dishes were finally done. Sona breathed in relief, opened another beer, and smiled. She knew she wouldn’t have to do this again, at least not for another month.

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