into the commercial dryer they went. dozens of samples. dozens of fiber combinations, all sorts of colors and patterns, screen printed, direct dyed, tie dyed, photo emulsions, painted... in they went. the lady (there's always a lady) hobbled around as i sat down with my history text. and read, while the dryer thumped.
thumped.
and thumped. the lady hustled to the phone with alarm and called the volunteer fire department. making eye contact, i emerged from the study trance to see her fling open my dryer "HEY!" i protested. inside my somewhat smaller precious collection of samples nestled in the steel drum were in flames. over i ran and in scurried firemen and poured in some water as smoke poured out of the vents under the dryer. the firemen scooped up the fiber and flung it out the door onto the walk. one semester's work. burned. melted. unsalvagable.
a new version of "the dog ate my homework".
...and to explain, you must visit india's challenge and know that this story is NOT fiction, so it doesn't qualify, but oh my god, it's true and it just about killed me.