Lightly Scented Air

[rhiannon_lee]

Clink…clank…scratch…

Under a thick layer of mascara and liner, Rhiannon’s eyes lifted from the pages of her paperback to search out the sound. She sat slumped on a vinyl-cushioned bench in the laundromat, legs stretching into the aisle alongside her basket of detergent and dryer sheets. She leaned forward and squinted at a zippered hoodie bouncing ‘round and ‘round the front-facing dryer. Was it worthwhile to stop the machine and flip it inside out?

The Laundromat was humid and heavily scented: ocean breeze, spring bouquet, fresh cotton. A television was mounted in the corner and from it Rhiannon heard the subdued score of a soap opera punctuated by commercials for cleaning products or diapers. Headphones hung crookedly around her neck because she wasn’t sure how much juice was left in the cassette player’s batteries.

She set her book aside and knelt in front of the dryer to open it.

[Thread]

Comments

[holiday_pirner]

"Wait, that's my load." Holly paused, standing in front of the row of dryers. "I think." She had forgotten to take note of the number when she had put her clothes in, but she knew it was in this general vicinity.

Having delayed this chore for so long, Holly was left to wear a Toto t-shirt an ex-boyfriend had never picked up from her flat, and battered jeans.

"Shit."

An older woman folding shirts nearby gave her a dirty look.

[rhiannon_lee]

“Yeah.” Rhiannon propped her cigarette on top of an empty soda can. “I’ve made some questionable dating decisions,” she said as she rolled a sock right-side out and searched for its partner. “Not once did it matter what anyone said to me. I was going to do what I wanted, with whomever I wanted.” She found the pairing and tucked them into a secure ball. As her fingers shook the wrinkles from a pair of jeans, she zoned out on a poster across the room, thinking about the worst offender. “What’s so bad about him?”

[rhiannon_lee]

"Well, aren't you vague but curious." Rhiannon's mouth quirked. She put both feet on the ground and leaned forward, pushing on her knees to stand up. "Everyone I meet in this city takes conversational deflection to an art form," she muttered, reading the timer on the dryer. "Let's just say he's an asshole and leave it at that for now."