Cleaning Up

Krissy held her phone display in front of her, providing a weak source of light. She stood up. Her legs felt weak, and she was shivering. She propped herself against a wall. The walls were covered with wood paneling that might have been in fashion in 1971. Krissy felt her way across the wall, until she found a small laundry area across from a bathroom. This suited her. She hoped that she could wash her clothes, get the foul taste of vomit out of her mouth, and wash off the sweat and dust.

First, to the bathroom. She found the light switch and turned it on. There was a linen closet with some clean bath towels. She found a large burgundy towel that would cover her while her clothes were being washed. She looked at the sink. There was a bottle of mouthwash. She propped herself against the sink, opened the mouthwash, poured some into the cap, took a sip, and swished it around, and spat it back out. She then sat down on the toilet lid as she was not sure that she could continue to stand for a minute. She then worked her way back to the sink and swished around more mouthwash a few times until her mouth tasted like artificial spearmint.

She then plugged up the bath, and turned the faucets. She sat down on the rim of the tub, and idly ran her hands across the surface of the warming water. She removed her clothes without standing. She noticed a red flush on her body, and not just her arms, but her trunk was also shivering, even though the room was not cold.

She decided to wait to wash her clothes. She gingerly lowered herself into the bath. The water started to darken as the dirt and grime from the road was being soaked off. She was not tired enough to go to sleep, but she had to will herself to wash her hair. She was wondering if she were sick, and if she was, what she had caught. Her throat was not sore, and she was breathing fine, so it was not the usual cold or flu.

After she finished, she drained the bath, dried herself off, wrapped the towel around her, and rolled the margin at the top, just under her armpits, so that she could wander around this place and not be dressed entirely inappropriately. She then put on her tennis shoes, picked up the rest of her clothes with one hand and with difficulty stood up and slid herself along the wall. She managed to make it out of the bathroom and to the washing machine. She started to put her clothes in. Did it really matter if she separated the whites out? Right, it didn't at this stage. Everything went in, and she started a cycle.

Krissy felt her way back to the wood paneling and the futon. This seemed like a television room. Maybe she had just enough strength to find the remote control and turn on a television. And then she could vegetate until she recovered her strength, or somebody came by to explain what happened.

1. And she found a coffee table with a remote control in front of the futon. She was able to find and press a power button.
2. Krissy did not have the strength to go on any further. She stared at the ceiling and listened to the sound of the washing machine spinning.
3. She found a coffee table, but no remote control in front of the futon. But she did find an object of interest.
4. A cute dog nuzzled against her leg as she sat on the futon. Krissy scratched it behind the ears and under the neck, and noticed a disk hanging from its collar. Engraved was the word "Velus."

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