Bustling

A crescendo of bustling sounds momentarily paused with a sigh and a grunt. "And what is our malfunction today?" Ashes asked Sir Dishes, staring out of the window (mostly apathetic). "We are moving furniture and vacuuming, dusting and wiping down. We are relocating things from here to there. We are ... reorganizing," Dishes replied (engaged in a right flank deep clean, as it was likely that a particle of dust had somehow touched him en route to the window). "And we appear to be doing this with a vengeance; to what aim, may I ask?" Ashes probed further, in a voice of practiced peeve, sharpening his claws on the carpeted ledge. "So that we can live more simply," Dishes whispered. "We are ... simplifying." Ashes' eyes narrowed and his tail twitched, but there came no reply. "I know," Dishes added, dragging a paw across his right ear. "I know."