So this morning, I stripped the bed, in a bit of a hurry, and put the washing on before I went out. I know, I live on the very edge of the edge.
I got home, and emptied the sheets out of the machine, and something clunked on the floor. Batteries. Weird, I thought. Then, a small piece of grey plastic. Getting a little X-Files already.
Then, mystery solved. The mangled melted remains of the remote from my bedroom CD player, which I have inadvertantly washed. At 90 degrees.
Generally in life I have a rough idea of how to respond to things, but I have never washed an electrical item before. I'm pretty sure it doesn't work, though.
But I like the way the battery cover no longer fits, and how the plastic has melted like a Dali clock. I might turn it into an art installation. It says something unique about dislocation in the world and how nothing quite fits together anymore. I'm so conceptual, me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment