Cleaning rags. Brooms. Mops."I need to study this," Blair quietly said as he gently fingered thewardrobe.-----000-----"This," Blair pointed to a large... heavy, metal bolt on the doors of thewardrobe, "is masculine. All of us understand it. It's large. It's heavy.It's metal. And dark grey; don't forget dark grey. Masculine."But what we have here," Blair said to the others as he opened the doorsand pointed to the contents, "is not masculine at all."He paused because he knew that pauses in short. We were both sweating tremendously, but we just weren’t the ones to take a break. I was finishing the small crawl space, and I had taken off my shirt because it was just too damn hot, while my sister, the whole time, was watching me clean the space without lifting a finger, despite my constant accusations of her being lazy. Chrissy must’ve unconsciously tripped the lock switch that helped keep the bed from flipping up while people were sleeping on it because something happened then that was. More

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