Laundromat

In books and movies laundromats are always the setting of some romantic meeting or misadventure. The dryers hum, the washing machines spin in unison. Eyes meet over folded linen, hands brush as a stray item is returned. An excuse is made to meet again.

The only person who talks to me at the laundromat is the old woman with thinning hair. She is always there on Tuesdays. She asks me how my cat is doing. "fine" I say and scrape the cat hair out of the lint trap. "yours?". She launches into a story that I can't quite hear due to the noise from the tumble dryers. I nod and smile. We fold our laundry, say goodbye.