PC 653x(a)

When the police leave after telling me that there’s nobody in my washing machine, I’ll be in my apartment alone again with that man in there. I miss when they took this seriously. Last week a deputy stayed twenty minutes, checking the walls, the air ducts, my neighbor’s walls, and then he gave me his card. Now they threaten me with a misdemeanor for making frivolous 911 calls. Now they talk about mental health and tell me I need to be seeing someone. I tell them I am seeing someone. Or hearing him, rather. He’s in my washing machine. I understand their ambivalence. I could be crazy. But the alternative is that there’s someone in there who leaves before the police come and check and then climbs back in as soon as they go. He could be waiting to kill me. This could be some sexual thrill. At the very least, I’m living with mountains of dirty clothes I cannot wash. Tomorrow I’ll go buy a security camera and do a couple loads at the laundromat down the street.