We have to call – I have to call – a repairman,
because when we try to start the dryer it makes a noise like a vacuum
sucking up a broken stereo. Like a dryer that needs a repairman.
I've barely closed the front door behind him when he tells me
he found the problem. A sock had been sucked up into the vent, and now
it is fixed. Like that. I'd known the screen to the vent was missing a
screw, had been putting off going to the hardware store.
My dad would have taken the dryer apart himself, would have found the
problem, fixed it. He would have gone to the hardware store and there
never would have been a repairman. I think of growing up and the coffee
tins in our garage, full of screws and nails, washers and nuts and
bolts, all sizes. He wouldn't have had to go to the hardware store at
all. I don't know if I have a single extra nail or screw in the house.
I don't drink coffee.
Aaron Burch edits a small lit journal. His stories have appeared in
Quick Fiction, elimae, Night Train, SmokeLong Quarterly and others.
To link to this story directly: http://wigleaf.com/200809repair.htm
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