Confessions of a Failed Laundress

1,556 days ago (on May 2, 2014) I lost my fitted bedsheet to the playful winds of Rome.
I have:
- tried to wrestle the elastic edge from the metal torture chamber  with a cornucopia of objects, including a broom
- watched various wildlife communities take temporary sanctuary within the delicate folds
- bubbled-over with anxiety during every thunderstorm that would inevitably transform my sheet into a weapon, threatening the lives of the elderly pedestrians , six levels below

Month by month, year by year no matter how hard the Roman winds blow, they merely tighten the grip of my defiant sheet.

I only wish I could remember where I purchased THE UNBREAKABLE BROWN BED SHEET, whose stubborn nature inspires.