Silk, frost. My breath settles on the scarf draped over my mouth and around my neck. Just above, the frames on my glasses grow pinching cold as I continue to walk into the northwest wind. I pass
It’s winter and it’s the city. That should be enough to tell you how cold it is and how much I’d rather be home in my flat, curled up in the threadbare armchair by the window. The armchair is red when it’s not covered by my flatmate’s photography mags or draped in some sort of unfinished needlework. Right now, I’m knitting woolen mufflers for my nephews.
Frankfurt Street
I haven’t seen my nephews in ages. My sister married young-only 20 years old-and she and her husband were having babies before I had fully realized they were married. They don’t live far…just a few miles uptown.
Finally. I reach the laundromat and pull open the heavy glass door. A discordant jingling sounds overhead, adding to the steady whump and swoosh of operating washers and dryers. The air is heavy with the scent of bleach and detergent; a small sniff is enough to set my nostrils tingling.
Lights and darks, I’ve never worried about it too much. I just wash everything in cold water.
Carefully, I line the quarters up in their slots before slamming them into the machine.
I don’t mind waiting. There is a boy and girl sitting together in one corner-waiting for their laundry, apparently. I wouldn’t be surprised if the wash was finished hours ago.
I roll my eyes and squinch up my face from behind my glasses. By the couple, however, this goes on unnoticed.
Have I always been such a cynic? I don’t think so. I used to cry over a good love story and pick out wedding dresses and think up names for my children.
The machine at my back rumbles gently.
But I suppose I can’t have changed all that much. And I suppose that someday… someone will awaken the romance in my soul.
I smile, and shake my head, and bury my face in my scarf.
7 comments:
"Lights and darks, I’ve never worried about it too much. I just wash everything in cold water."
Somehow this strikes me as the most brilliant part of this post. We're not going to question why I like it so much, though. We're just going to lament the fact that I can't use that as a status message, because nobody would get it.
I like your philosophy of laundry, too. It makes everything tidy and simply dispenses with useless categorization and complexity. Nicely done.
The entire story is a smashing success. I like it considerably better than the last entry, in fact. Looking forward to more.
Yes Janie, I am lamenting.
Thanks for the thumbs up ya'll. :D
hey, look. Raisa and Jussi are siblings.
This is interesting. I read your newer posts first and they were all from an outside point of view, but it seems that from here on back they are from the point of view of the person. I like that :)
You're very talented.
they're not all me, if you'll notice. there's three of us writing here.. i'm not sure if your 'you's are referring to all of us or just one of us, but there it is..
the statement, "there it is", must always have some connection to the reducing of much of the female sex. especially when proceeded by qualifiers such as "but". Thank Austen, as I always say, on my slightly more gay-days.
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