Sara sighed. She stared into the drum of the washer and nearly
cried from frustration. It was full of water. Her clothes were sopping wet.
They would require at least two cycles in the dryer. She would have to walk up
and down the stairs a whole extra time. It didn’t sound like much, she only
lived on the third floor. But she loathed laundry. Sighing again, she twisted
as much water out of her garments as she could and put them in the dryer. Her
fingers ached by the time she pushed in the lever to start the machine.
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