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]

Elevator. Oh, right.

"Yeah, I was bit off that night." She boosted herself up to sit on one of the formica tables. "I see you found a way down, though, so that's good news."

Hadn't Julianna asked about her? Or had that been Valerie? It was hard to recall now.

[rhiannon_lee]

“We climbed out,” she said, then corrected, “Well, two of us did, I don’t know about the others. I kinda hope they fell.” Rhiannon returned to the toxic orange cushion and drew her legs under her Indian-style. “I’m Rhiannon. I’ve seen your bra, so we should probably be on a first-name basis.” She marked her place in the book with a receipt she’d used for that purpose for months.

Jim’s Corner Store
$1.69 cigarettes
$0.99 candy
$0.25 coffee

[holiday_pirner]

"The others? I thought it was just you, me, and the blonde girl." Holly crossed her legs, watching clothes swish around in the washers. A dinky television was bolted up in one corner, soundlessly broadcasting a Three Stooges marathon.

"Rhiannon!" That was it. "I mean, cool, like the song." When had she become such a spaz? Was there something in the desert air?

[rhiannon_lee]

She smiled at the reference to Fleetwood Mac, one she heard often. There were worse things to be serenaded with at age fourteen. She had known a girl named Mandy who definitely got the short end of the stick.

“When you got off the elevator, it was me and Valerie, but then two people got on. Two… well. Yeah. People.” She made a wry face and watched a man scoop an armful of bleached whites into his basket. As he sorted through the socks and undershirts, he fished out a necktie that had wound up in the mix.

‘Son of a…!’

Rhiannon clamped her lips together and tried not to smile. "And you are...?"

[holiday_pirner]

Turning her attention away from the irate man, she looked back at Rhiannon. "Right, sorry. I'm Holly." She took her sunglasses off her head and folded them.

"So if they were just people, why did you want them to fall?"

[rhiannon_lee]

“What else would they be?” Rhiannon asked, thinking of it as a rhetorical question. She pulled the headphones off and gently wrapped the wire in a little loop. “I wish I could say I never want to break a regular person’s kneecaps, but that would be a lie.” She stowed the walkman in a backpack that she had tucked under the bench. It contained a paper pad, a couple of loose pens and pencils, a bottle of red nail polish, and a stake wrapped in a t-shirt.

[holiday_pirner]

"Yeah, I'm a bit hungover today. The kind where it hurts to think." Her sneaker air-tapped in time to the dryer sounds. She fought the urge to blurt out anything. She could be discreet. It was just...difficult sometimes.

"What are you listening to? Judging by our shared taste in apparel, probably something good." There. Music was neutral ground.

[rhiannon_lee]

“Been there. Though not nearly enough recently.” Rhiannon ran the zipper to close her backpack and slid it under her chair. “It’s Cabaret Voltaire,” she said, wondering if she should have offered Holly a listen. “They’re from your side of the pond, much like all bands worth listening to.” She smiled and pulled cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket. A thumb ring flashed under the fluorescent lights as Rhiannon cupped her hand and lit up. "I went to school there in England for a little while. I used to sneak out and go to shows."

[holiday_pirner]

"What part of England? And please tell me it wasn't some dodgy boarding school."

Holly watched Rhiannon light the cigarette with a barely concealed look of envy. She hadn't told anyone, but she had decided to maybe attempt to quit. It was a big 'maybe', though.

"I heard there's a place here to go for shows. It's called, um," she looked up to the right. "The Dive."

[rhiannon_lee]

“London. It’s more like a vocational school with shitty living quarters.” Rhiannon studied a chipped fingernail and frowned. She flicked at her nail polish and dismissed it as a casualty of laundry. “I haven’t been to a show since I got to Nevada,” she said, stretching forward and touching the toes of her boots. “I don’t really know anyone, other than Valerie – the girl in the elevator with me – and this guy I’m… Okay, I have no idea how to politely describe what I’m doing with him.”

[holiday_pirner]

Holly smiled, hopping down from the counter. She grabbed a wheeled basket as she talked. "I'm from London." Grabbing her clothes out of a washer and tossing them into the basket, she added, "I've only been here, what, a few months."

Jeans, t-shirts, and a few dresses filled the basket and she pushed it over to the dryers. "If you can't politely describe it, maybe that's good. Who wants polite?"

[rhiannon_lee]

“Polite sex, anyway,” Rhiannon agreed. She ashed her cigarette and clamped it between her lips, where her Revlon ravishing red helped it stick. As she scratched idly at her elbow, she wished for the type of female friendship where she could ask life’s important questions – does it count as bestiality if he’s only an animal 5% of the time? Is it necrophilia when a human sleeps with a vampire? – without fear of judgment.

“Never fear, we’re nowhere near that.” One of her dryers stopped running. She squatted in front of the machine and pulled out an armload of clothes, which she transferred to the table and began to sort. “What about you, are you seeing anyone?”

[holiday_pirner]

"I guess you could say I am." She dug in her pockets for quarters, depositing them into the silver tray.

"Almost everyone who knows about it seems to judge me for it. And I don't care, not really, because I know they're wrong. But I'm tired of hearing it, you know?"

Holly picked dryer fuzz off of her t-shirt in an attempt to stop rambling.