It wasn’t until the house was clean again that Casey realized how much she liked it that way. The rug just looked lighter, somehow, and the room felt bigger without all the stuff draped over every chair and table.
She hugged the auto-cleaner, and unplugged it from the wall. It waved its sensory antennae happily, and scuttled over to the corner, presumably to dust something. Grinning, Casey put her shoes on to go out for lunch. She patted her pockets. Empty. Checked her desk. Spotless. No keys anywhere.
Finally, she looked in the hall closet. There, she found all of her things, carefully folded and stacked in alphabetical order. The manual, naturally, was buried at the bottom of stack F-M.
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SO funny. I loved it. Wish I had an autocleaner!
Comment by Heartfelt — March 31, 2009 @ 6:42 pm