Stella

I stuffed a full hamper of clothes into each of the boxy things that I guessed were machines. They looked so futuristic, even though I'd traveled back to the past. Maybe this 'technology' that humans had was their version of faerie magic.

Then came the hard part: figuring out which buttons to press. My eyebrows drew together as I scanned the little labels on the respective machines.

What was the difference between ‘delicates’ and ‘sports’ and ‘cotton’? There were another twenty options too.

Cringing, hoping I was doing it right, I gingerly pressed one of the buttons while holding my breath. Then, I waited.

Why weren’t the machines starting? Did I have to press something else?

I stared dejectedly at the clothes just sitting inside the machines, feeling frustration begin to mount within me. It would be useful if I had an instruction manual with me right about now.

Maybe I had to close the lids…

Oh, wait, weren’t you supposed to put something in the machines together with the clothes? The few times I saw my maids do my laundry, I remembered seeing soap suds pouring out from their buckets. Maybe I needed to add some bubbles to these clothes too.

There were a couple of bottles sitting on the floor beside the machines, so I picked them up. One said ‘bleach,’ another said ‘detergent,’ another said ‘floor cleaner,’ and yet another said ‘softener’.

I had no idea what each of these things were. Maybe a little bit of each of them was what the wash required?

And, surely, whatever could be used to clean floors could clean clothes too, right?

I dumped a cap full of each of these bottles into both machines, then shut the lids. I waited again for something to happen. When nothing did, I pressed a couple of other random buttons, then jerked up excitedly once I heard a beep.

With a whirl, both machines started up. I could see the clothes rotating in the machine with the transparent door; the other machine guarded its secrets closely.

I could respect that. Takes one to know one, after all.

Suddenly, they began whirring maniacally, rumbling like the belly of a hungry dragon if you asked me. Was that supposed to happen?

I stared at the machines as they wobbled furiously on their legs, looking like they were choking on the clothes. "Please be good," I murmured, patting them timidly on their lids, hoping that helped calm them down. Machines were sentient beings, right?

They only seemed to growl even louder. Slowly, I closed the doors and inched away.

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