Monday, August 30, 2021
She was already a ghost, with her long white hair and pale moon-colored clothes. Behind a counter, she sat on a stool and smoked a cigarette. If a machine wasn’t working right, she would move silently, open it and take a look. We spent a month or two going there before we bought our own washer and dryer. It was just easier to. We didn’t go there anymore and one day the laundromat was gone. The windows were boarded over. She weaved everything inside into water and soap and poured with that river to wherever it flowed.
Posted by allen frost at 11:14 AM