The War Between the Tates: a Novel
“It is almost entirely below ground level, dark and usually damp, with mottled walls of a sour gray cement which will not hold paint, and a web of rusty pipes and hot-air ducts and wires hanging from the low ceiling. In the least damp corner, raised off the gritty cement floor on soggy two-by-fours, are the Maytag washer and dryer.
Erica is in this cellar on a Monday afternoon in December doing the laundry, which should have been done days ago, when she was in no condition to do it. For a week s...he has given in to her own bad feelings; she is almost literally washed out, as if she had climbed into the Maytag and let hot rage and soapy self-pity slosh over her, swishing her back and forth in the dark, draining her finally with a hard sucking noise and leaving her as she is now: limp, wrinkled and wrung out.
She still feels wrung out, but the chore cannot be put-off any longer, for the weather has suddenly turned worse, as everything’ has turned worse. Erica cannot feel the wind down here, but she can hear it beating around the walls with a noise like hostile laughter.MoreLess
Erica is in this cellar on a Monday afternoon in December doing the laundry, which should have been done days ago, when she was in no condition to do it. For a week s...he has given in to her own bad feelings; she is almost literally washed out, as if she had climbed into the Maytag and let hot rage and soapy self-pity slosh over her, swishing her back and forth in the dark, draining her finally with a hard sucking noise and leaving her as she is now: limp, wrinkled and wrung out.
She still feels wrung out, but the chore cannot be put-off any longer, for the weather has suddenly turned worse, as everything’ has turned worse. Erica cannot feel the wind down here, but she can hear it beating around the walls with a noise like hostile laughter.MoreLess
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