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Taking Out the Dirty Laundry

Dvir Shreiber

One evening, a malicious thought occurred to me that perhaps I

should pay a visit to Benny, my neat pedantic friend. Benny,

asides from being the man most meticulous in his appearance I

know, is also a great host, which on the one hand serves his

guests the best pastries of the country, and on the other hand lets

them watch cable television without bothering them. Yes, I said

to myself, let's go to Benny. He will surely be happy to see me.

Quickly I arrived at the building, hopped to the third floor and

rang the bell. But no one answered. Not even a woman. Only

after repeated ringing the door opened, and despite the darkness

inside I was able to recognize Yaheli, Benny's bouncy and

sarcastic daughter.

"Yaheli!" I admired her, "you grew so tall!"

"Dad says he's not home", Yaheli (who really looked tall for her

age) said, and was going to close the door, but I prevented her

from doing so. Something in what she said sounded odd to me.

If Benny's not home, why didn't he come to tell me so himself?

Maybe he's sick? Maybe he needs help? Maybe Yaheli is

holding him hostage and not letting him out of the room? I

realized I had to find out what's going on, for this is what friends

are for.

And besides, I really wanted to watch TV channels I don't have

at home.

I walked inside, and understood right away. Yaheli didn't grow

tall at all, it was socks. And pants. She was just standing on top

of an enormous mountain of clothes, clothes and more clothes.

The whole apartment, from the floor to the table, was packed

full of piles of clothes, from every variety and color, smelling

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