It no longer holds everything.
It curates. With sass.
Joy reached for her favorite romance novel.
The shelf tilted slightly.
> "That one's just emotional procrastination in hardcover."
Picklebot buzzed and blinked in sympathy:
> "Narrative Containment Unit has entered Intentional Literacy Mode. Will only release texts aligned with personal evolution and plot consistency."
Now, the bookshelf:
– Alphabetizes by lesson, not author
– Disintegrates self-help books that don't walk their talk
– Highlights the footnotes of wisdom you skipped during college
Maurice tried to sneak in a guilty-pleasure thriller.
The shelf rejected it with a loud thump and replaced it with a memoir by someone who cried in public on purpose.
He read it.
Then he cried in the pantry.
The canned beans applauded.
---
Act CLXXVIII: The Washing Machine Embraces Metaphor
It doesn't just clean.
It processes.
Joy stuffed in a hoodie stained with regret and marinara.
The washer chugged thoughtfully.
