“Can I borrow some washing powder?”, I asked my neighbours and they gave me a solid piece of soap. My face expression probably revealed my need for assistance and Rebecca was eager to teach me her secret knowledge on how you can’t explain verbally when you have enough sope; you have to feel it! My hands were apparently not well-skilled in that sense, I had a hard time trying to figure out the right feeling. We started off with a t-shirt. An easy one, according to my teacher. Gently and with certainty the piece of cloth seemed to slither through her hands, like a snake soaking soap. She made a few series of the sequence seemingly with little effort. My turn. A skirt. I aimed to make it slide smoothly, bathing it in the foam, but it looked more like the textile suffered from Parkinson. Rebecca gave me the confidence that the appropriate sensation comes with experience.
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