There are few sounds in the domestic sphere more immediately dispiriting than the gurgle. It is not a bang, which signifies a sudden break, nor a hum, which signifies function. The gurgle is a sound of resistance, of laboring mechanics, of a system failing to do the one thing it was designed to do. It usually begins during the spin cycle, a rhythmic glug-glug-glug emanating from the floor drain, signaling that the quiet satisfaction of clean clothes is about to devolve into a murky crisis.