Meeting Sam

Like many children, I had an imaginary friend. He was a middle-aged man named Sam who worked as a professional clown. We hung out during his down time, though, so he was rarely in makeup; and to be honest, he wasn’t very funny. I remember the day we met quite vividly. I was scared out of my mind.

It was laundry day. I had a dirty dress.

The usual gentle purr of the washing machine was interrupted by a loud THUMP!

The machine began to jump as though possessed.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. The machine sighed.

Unable to quell my curiosity, I peeked inside.

And there was Sam, so pleased to be clean.

Naturally, I screamed.

I ran screaming from the laundry room. "There's a man in the laundry room!" By the time Dad came back with a baseball bat, however, Sam had made himself scarce.