On floor a basket filled with my avoidance. Accumulated sweat and dirt and lake water in a basket with a couple shirts pants and wet wet socks. Above the wafting laundry are the hoards of sweaters. The occasional piece of formal wear stuck on a velvety hanger in the back and floofy skirts clipped in. Searching for what to wear evokes the click clack of hanger given its so tightly packed in only the tops of the hangers truly move. Everything else tucked wank wad into the drawer of the dresser beside me, but only the bottom drawer. The wood infusing it’s smell into every crevice and stitch of anything placed with in it.