Wednesday, December 10

The Dishrag

The old dishrag sat in the corner of the room, collecting dust. It had been years since it had wiped a plate. Once red, now it looked a muddied pink-so many times had it been dipped in bleach, soaked in vinegar. The old dishrag should have been thrown away, with the trash, and the broken broom. But somehow it had been forgotten, in the corner of that living room. The tenants long gone, and the building now foreclosed. How long would this dishrag sit?