when “finished” with its cycle, my new dryer beep bloops a jingle that can only be described as the sound of an ice cream truck in the first third of a horror movie, meant to show the viewer that something is contorted, sinister, slithering beneath the glossy surface in this seemingly halcyon town and it feels like it is mocking me every time, especially because it never actually has dried the things its insidiously jocund jingle insists it has
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