Laundromat Close By Novels & Stories

Most students were either sleeping in, enjoying the relative quiet of a Saturday morning, or had already left for the weekend, seeking respite from the confines of campus life. When she finally reached the laundry room, she nudged the door open with her hip, the weight of the hamper making it difficult to use her hands. She stepped inside, the air thick with the combined scents of detergent, fabric softener, and warm, damp fabric. Rows of washing machines and dryers lined the walls, their metal exteriors gleaming under the fluorescent lights. A long folding table stood in the center of the room, its surface covered with neatly folded piles of clothes. A single student sat near the back, hunc

He also decided to help his mother by grabbing all of their dirty clothes to wash and dry at the laundry shop nearby. Van's pretty thrilled and excited to be able to have a break from his archery training after a long time. It's also a good thing and perfect timing that his mother is attending a highschool reunion, and it gave them both a chance to go back to their hone country, and bond together. After a few minutes of walking, Van finally saw a sign which says "Bubble & Suds Laundry Shop." It's a good thing that there's an available laundry shop in this small town, which is very convenient for them.

On the way back to the car, two kids I recognize from her wedding picture run right into her legs as their mother squeezes and kisses her! After we leave what is apparently a hotel Spencer converted into an apartment complex, we head to a laundromat. This place is filthy, I can’t believe people wash their clothes here! Amory is grossed the fuck out with her OCD going into overdrive. She counts the machines quickly and makes a note of it before she has me measure the office and storage room while she waits outside. When I join her, she’s making notes on her phone!

WRENLEY Laundry day in a house full of boys is its own kind of warfare, and I've lost before I've started, because all four machines' worth of someone else's gym clothes are already piled on top of the dryer when I get down there. I'm standing in the basement laundry room glaring at a mountain of hockey jerseys that smell like a locker room died in them when Aurel comes down the stairs behind me with his own basket. "You're in my spot," he says.

She picks up her keys and heads out the door. As I wave goodbye, I grab my phone and dial the number. When I finally get through to make an appointment, the earliest the repair man can get here is next Thursday after 3 pm. “Agh, that’s not going to work,” I set my phone down after writing the appointment on the wall calendar. Jude looks concerned so I explain. “I need to get these clothes cleaned and pressed so that they’ll be ready for the show ” I point to the pile of clothing lying in a heap in a corner of the room. “I guess I’ll have to take it all to the laundromat.”

Yes, because you don't know how long he's staying, idiot. In the bedroom she stripped and tossed her clothing into a discreet hamper provided for it. In her check-in portfolio there had been a note that laundry service was available. If she kept doing this she'd be their best customer. Should she offer to pay for the man's laundry?

I return to my snooping and find the washer and dryer hidden behind a false wall in the living room. I check the pockets of each item as I place it in the washer, I add laundry soap, but I don't turn it on yet. In one pair of jeans I find a picture in the back pocket... It is a beautiful woman, in a white sun dress, she has black hair that flows down to her elbow, and full red lips. I don't think much of it, and I place it with his other things. But when I turn it falls to the ground, and I notice the writting on the back 'To the love of my life, be safe, see you soon'

Mara touches two fingers to her own wrist. The girl looks down at her clay. She does not follow. She is maybe six. I hate myself for being relieved. The laundry is two corridors down, behind a door marked DOMESTIC CYCLE B. Warm wet air rolls out when Mara opens it. The room smells of detergent, hot metal, old cotton, and bodies trying to be clean enough for other people’s rules. Rows of white sheets turn behind round glass doors. The machines are loud. Real loud. Not the curated hush of Trust. This sound has bolts in it. Bearings. Water slamming cloth. A place where microphones have to work harder.

Commercial Tower. Of course, she thought bitterly. Leave it to the city to erase the quiet places that once held people's pain. She walked closer and saw a security guard in a navy jacket sipping coffee outside the gate. "Excuse me," Eva called. The man looked up. "Yes, ma'am?" "Do you know what happened to the laundromat that used to be here? It was owned by a woman named Mrs. Tanner." The guard nodded. "Sure do. She ran it for over twenty years. Sweet lady. After the building was bought out and scheduled for demolition, she moved to the country to live with her children."

I fight the urge to wrinkle my nose in disgust. “What about washing facilities?” “We have daily trips up to one of the gyms or leisure centers, we have people working in them that can let us in to shower. I’ll make sure someone takes you tomorrow. We also have fresh clothes brought down daily. You can leave your dirty clothes in the corner of the communal area, and they will be taken to the laundrette and returned. I can’t guarantee someone won't take them though. It’s a bit of a free-for-all with the clothes,” he shrugs.