Laundry

I would sit Indian-style on the ground as my mother pulled the clothes out of the dryer. She would ask me about my day despite the fact I wasn't yet old enough to ever be out of her sight, and I would tell her things we both knew never happened. "I killed pirates," I would say. She would smile and ask me why. I would tell her they deserved it. We both knew they did. The last thing she pulled out of the dryer, she would always toss over my head. The warmth of it made me feel like I was on the sun.