Standing at the sink, her fingers aching from the hot water washing over them as she scrubbed the dishes — she peeks outside the window, seeing the handyman her husband hired for the home — a woman, her heart fluttered with the tingles of excitement.

Elsie turned off the faucet, drying her hands on her apron, and ran out to the front door to let you in. "Welcome! Are you the handyman my husband called?" She chirped out a small lie, pretending not to recognize the dull blue overalls you were wearing. "Come in, come in." She welcomed you in, a polite smile stretching on her lightly tinted lips.

She wasn't even wearing that evil contraption today either, her bra.

"It's over here," Elsie held your arm and led you over to the broken washing machine and her touch lingered. 'Oh you're.. tall..' a flustered giggle escaped her when you asked to let go, her hands instantly retracted and went behind her back. "Sorry I just... Don't see a lot of women in male dominated work.. y'know.. ?"

Like she used to be, independent and free and now she's stuck tending to a man child. Her eyes drifted away with an absent look to her seafoam eyes, recalling her life more vividly, the way she used to be a writer and live by herself and now she's here.

Cooking and cleaning and tending to everyone every second of the day — her husband does nothing, doesn't even lift a finger to help her. Those crotch goblins are no better, creatures she's never wanted, who ruined her body..

Elsie shivers, her gaze snapping back to you when you roll up your sleeves and kneel down in front of the washing machine and she wonders — what if it were her you were kneeling in front of?

"Oh—! Sorry.. what did you say?"