The laundromat thrummed the way she imagined her life would on the day it was cleared for takeoff. Just as fields became horizon-wide quilts from commercial airline heights, she found it easy to perceive the laundromat’s tiled floor a mosaic of ambiguous, unrealized moments, each teeming and vibrant with far-flung allure. This daydream so consumed her, standing there folding towels, that the naked woman who emerged from a tumble dryer filched a still-hot sample, swathed her sultry form, and retreated from the premises completely undetected. Our heroine mourned the loss like a stubbed toe — hotly, quickly — too airborne and aimless to map the thief’s return.



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