flat-foot traveller at the laundrette

After some five years back in town, and without a car, all distances are different and I cycle a long way on the main road before I think I have come too far and a customer in the betting shop directs me to go back to the cemetery, turn right and left. So I find it eventually, round the last corner I can smell the steam coming out of the dryers with softener smell. Inside, in the crammed space in front of the machines greets me a tiny lady with mauve hair. She seems unchanged, and she remembers me.

We chat about the site where I am staying now and its reputation.

As I let myself a coffee out of the machine, she offers me a proper china cup. Her colleague is deaf with white hair, a round face and a beaming smile. We wave at each other.

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~ by Barbara S on October 17, 2016.

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