Congratulations to Narwhal and its new space. Phoebe and I have moved as well. Evicted in fact – wrongfully, of course.

I was an unlucky hero, until our eviction notice, “damage to the building and not following building rules.”

Our laundry room was lit by one Standard 60 watt bulb on a dimmer switch. I know this because I was the last to change it. Over the bulb a large cloth depicting fantastical events and mythical histories of India was hooked up to cover the ceiling, giving the room a warm inviting feel. There was a washer and the dryer, and bookshelves along the back wall where neighbours shared some of their best finds (and some bullshit people couldn’t fit on their own shelves). There were a couple chairs to relax in and wait for the cycles to finish, some plants, and a window that looked into the garden and the bird fountain at its center. The best part was the machines, old and trustworthy and only fifty cents a load! I would often just sit and read while my clothes washed, until some maudlin ass made the first lint ball animal – a cat, and then horses, whales, flowers and people followed. I found the rapidity of their production unnerving, except for the very impressive dragon, which took the longest, but most looked like blobs of lint. They were on the bookshelves, on the plants, the window ledge, the floor, the arms of the chairs, everywhere you can imagine.

On the last day I entered the laundry room I felt as if I’d entered a different world than what I had known. The explosion of lint creatures had continued. A diorama was made on the low table next to the dryer depicting a concert of sorts with animals and people encircling five ghastly attempts at musicians with instruments. Where all this lint was coming from was beginning to take its toll on my rational mind, until I saw wedged between the washer and dryer a hideous four foot straw man, a devil really, which counterbalanced the sublimity of one of my favourite places, and upon its shoulders lint animals grazed.

The person ahead of me had placed a fabric softener sheet on the dryer and had put money into the slot. Being a good neighbour I transferred their wet clothes and put the dryer on while I began the wash cycle for my own clothes. I then sat down to read, positioning myself so the devil next to the dryer was out of my line of sight. A mistake I shall never make again.

I smelt it first and turned to see flames shooting from underneath the dryer, and the first lint animal, a cow I believe, lying on the floor and too close to the flames spitting out. The cow ignited and floated up to escape but the concert-goers on the small table got too close and the fire spread.

I shot to my feet before the musicians and their instruments burst to life, and I swear that straw devil stuck its foot into the flame from the dryer.

I was in a conflagration, and all the grazing animals upon the devil’s body burst into flame and took flight to ignite their little lint demon brethren. To the book shelves, the plants and the window ledge and I know now that no one could have planned such mayhem yet at the time I felt the devil had set its sights to take me, but I wasn’t going to let it.

I ran to the bird fountain and tried to lift the full basin of water but it was heavier than I thought, and the door to the building locked behind me. I ran to the garden window – smashed it, and then called the fire department, but not before the flaming dragon lifted from its perch and unleashed its breath upon the cloth covering the ceiling. I stood back and stared into the devil’s inferno. I was lucky to be alive and the crackling of the straw man, I swear, turned briefly to a cackle before the sirens drowned it out.

Once the fire department fined the building manager for having faulty smoke detectors and said it was most likely started by a fabric softener sheet finding its way to the heating element of the dryer, Phoebe and I were bounced from the building.

I remind myself whenever Phoebe shows me her dissipating irritation about having to move that I’m lucky to be alive. It’s smaller, granted, but the rent is better and it’s ours. Yes, we’re back at the mats, laundry mats that is, and avoiding the ones that our old neighbours are now forced to frequent, but good things have come, and yet, I wonder who put that straw devil where they did. My intention is to wait for a time and find out. Phoebe says I should let it go, but… maybe she’s right.

~ JB