Ode to a Lonely Bullet

Have you ever found a bullet in your washing machine? I have. Okay, my husband is a police officer, so I guess it's not that hard to believe, but the first time it happens, it's a little unsettling.

I was minding my own business, transferring my wet clothes to the dryer, when I heard a clanging sound in the washing machine. I thought it might be coins, but no, it was a bullet. Now, I've been fairly sheltered in my suburban world, and have never seen a bullet in person, never mind found one in my laundry, so as you can imagine, I was a bit unnerved. Would it explode? Was there some particular way of disposing it? I had no idea.

So I placed it on top of the washing machine, where it remained for several weeks, undisturbed, save for the spin cycle. I finally brought it upstairs and gave it to Marc and asked him to put it back in its home. Was it lonely during its basement exile? Was it glad to rejoin its mates? Perhaps we'll never know.