Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Washed Clean

The previous customer has vacated the tiny space at the counter of the laundry across the street, and Kevin, the doge, and I are able to go in to pick up my shirts.

"You two are brothers?" Judy, who's worked there forever, asks.

"We've just hung out a long time," I say, at the same time that Kevin says, "It's the hair."

The man who just left is standing outside, engaging in what sounds like a very noisy prayer, which starts, "Oh, Lord, if you can keep my mind and heart and soul pure of my sexual sins...."

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