It started as a minor nuisance, a tiny pinprick near the hem of my favorite cotton T-shirt that I dismissed as a fluke of cheap manufacturing. But then, the cycle began in earnest. Every time I pulled a load of laundry from the dryer, the damage grew more aggressive—gaping holes, frayed threads, and ruined garments that once defined my wardrobe. I was convinced my machine was possessed, or perhaps that a colony of moths had declared war on my closet, but the truth was far more unsettling… Continue reading…
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