Murder In A Basket*

“I’ve brought you a present,” my brother says, from the hall of the flat.

“Oh, thank you,” I say.  I’ve just woken up from my afternoon sleep and I’m sitting up in bed.  That was a long sleep: three hours.  The panther lies on the bed next to me, rasping my cheek with his rough tongue.  His breath smells of rotting meat.

Brother enters the room, brandishing a white plastic basket.

“That’s lovely,” I say.  “But what is it?”

“It’s a laundry basket,” he says, grinning.  “You’re the only person in the world who doesn’t have one.  What do you do when you take the wet things out of the washing machine, before you hang them up?”

“Um, I drag them across the floor,” I say.  “Or push them or…”

“Well, now you can put them in the basket,” my brother says.  He sounds very pleased with himself.

Before we go out for dinner in two hours, need to:

1.  Have bath and wash hair.

2.  Clean contact lenses.

3.  Tidy up.

4.  Do something with my nails, even if is just applying a base coat.

5.  Put dishwasher on.

But now have a Laundry Basket, everything will improve.  You can see him in the attached photo.

Happy Wednesday everyone!
*2012.  By Amanda Flower.  An India Hayes mystery novel.