literature

Washing Up (1700 Words)

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Literature Text

AJ was in the laundry mat bathroom, brushing his teeth. After he spit the minty water from his mouth he had to wash the soap suds from his chest and armpits. By the time he walked out of the bathroom, there was a puddle of water in the center of the floor and his laundry was ready to be tossed from the washer into the dryer.

Towel wrapped around his waist, AJ carefully walked his wet feet across the tile floor to the machine that held his favorite clothes. He opened up the lid and grabbed as much as he could hold in the one hand of his that wasn’t holding up his towel and turned to the open dryer behind him and tossed it inside. He repeated the act one more time before he shut the door and walked back to the plastic chairs that were near the restroom.

In his grocery bag, where he had stashed his soap and toothbrush, AJ fished for the change that he heard rattling at the bottom. He trapped three quarters between his fingers and walked back to the dryer and began placing the money into the coin slots.

With one hand it was a struggle, but he got the first two in successfully. As he tried to move the final quarter from his palm to his fingers it slipped up into the air. His hand tried to catch it once, but only knocked it higher. His lack of shame took center stage as he let go of his towel and tried to grab the coin from the air with both hands.

Alas, AJ ended up seeing the coin hit the floor and begin rolling away from him. His body leapt to the ground and landed on hands and knees, crawling after the fleeing coin.  AJ’s hand reached out and he felt his fingertips touch the edge of the quarter and set it to wobbling for the last moment of its journey, a journey that ended with it in the only safe haven that existed in a laundry mat. He put his ear to the floor and he saw the quarter tip and finally fall over about nine or ten inches underneath a washing machine.

His hand reached out, but was stopped before it could touch the coin by the closeness of the washing machine to the floor. AJ struggled, pushed and wiggled his hand and fingers’, trying to get closer enough to pull the coin towards him, but luck was not on his side.

He got to his knees and tried to use one hand to muscle the machine up a couple millimeters while he pushed his hand underneath it, but his muscles were not up to the task.

Sighing, AJ looked around and realized that the single mother he had been eyeing before he went into the bathroom was covering the eyes of her daughter. When AJ made eye contact with her he could only wink, hoping that she liked what she saw.

Getting up from the floor, AJ walked back to the towel picked it up and draped it around him again before sauntering back to his bag and searching for another coin. After a moment of feeling for a coin that he couldn’t quite find he began pulling out each item from the bag.

On the chair he set his bar of soap and his toothbrush, followed by a tiny combo bottle of shampoo and conditioner, a travel mouthwash and cologne, all items that are easily pocketed from the local Wal-Mart. Only after he emptied the contents of the bag did he find the coin that he had remembered was at the bottom of the bag.

Between his thumb and forefinger he pulled it out, smile on his face, and held it up in front of his eyes. Then his smile slowly melted from his face as he recognized the nickel that he tightly clutched between his fingers.

He turned back to the machines to see the blonde mother give him a filthy look, and her young daughter give her the finger, as they walked out of the laundry mat with a basket of unfolded clothes.

“Shit”

AJ went over to the soap machine, hoping that maybe he could stumble across a left over quarter in its clutches, but was unsurprised when he came up empty. Next he checked each and every washing and drying machine in the building for a spare quarter. Finally he went back to where he knew one quarter lay.

There, with his face against the floor, and hand stuck a fingertip away from the last quarter he needed, he reached an epiphany.

Quickly he got to his feet and walked back to the seat that held his grooming supplies. There he picked up his tooth brush and, tool in hand, headed back to where his problem lay.

AJ returned to the floor and watched as the bristles of his toothbrush were placed on the far side of the quarter and swept the coin out from underneath the dusty darkness that it had escaped to.

A proud smile crossed his face as he picked up the quarter and placed it in its proper slot. Then he pushed the coins into the machine and it began spinning the water out of his clothes.

AJ sauntered back to his belongings and began putting them all back into the bag. Before he set his toothbrush in the bag he went back into the bathroom and washed it underneath the facet water, cleaning the majority of the dust from its bristles.

Still clothed in nothing more than his towel, he sat back down on the plastic chair, spread his legs wide, and picked up his copy of Guns Monthly. AJ was quickly lost in the pictures of women in bikinis holding rifles, handguns and bazookas.

He turned the pages sideways and pulled them to within inches from his face, taking in the fabulous ability of the photographers to capture the glean of light off the well-oiled barrels and chests in the glossy photographs.  

After he studied the sleek paper for a good twenty or thirty minutes a buzzer went off. The buzzer that meant his clothes were all ready to go. AJ set down the magazine and went to pick up his wardrobe.

He opened the door and put his hands on his nice and warm clothes. Then he pulled his hand away sharply. He hand found the buttons to his pants, and they were still pretty damn hot.

AJ looked over his shoulder. Since the woman had finished her laundry earlier, he had been alone in the room. Yes, there was the bank of open windows that lined the front of the building, only feet from where he was standin, and the traffic that could easily see everything that was going on inside, but there was no real good reason for him to walk all the way back to the bathroom and dress himself.

So right there he dropped his towel and began to rummage through his hot laundry in search of his underwear. He found them and inspected them for a moment before deciding that the side with the stains was the inside.

He pulled his jeans from the dryer, and slid them up his legs, one side at a time. There is nothing quite like the comfort of putting on freshly dried denim, AJ smiled blissfully as he buttoned the still hot buttons.

Next he pulled out his favorite T-Shirt. He had cut off the sleeves long ago, and the beer stains were beginning to accumulate on it. But as he held it up for his eyes, the faded words of “Home is where you park it” were still easily read underneath the picture of a beaten trailer.

The warmth of the shirt penetrated his chest and drove right down through his skin into his heart. He grabbed the rest of his clothes, in his arms and began to walk back to his chair.

As he turned he saw the group of girls standing, staring at him through the glass of the front window. Some faces had hands reaching up to cover their eyes or their mouths, the others were young masks of disgust and horror atop their green and brown Girl Scout outfits.  

Unable to think of anything else to do, AJ cracked a grin and waved to his audience before he filled his other grocery bag with the rest of his clothes.

Grabbing a pair of holed socks, AJ put them on his feet before slipping them inside of his boots and walking out the back of the laundry mat.

In the parking lot of the laundry mat, AJ looked to either side of him, took account of his things that were held in the pair of plastic bags he was holding. Satisfied that he had all of his belongings he began walking away.

He sauntered past each and every beaten up, down trodden car and truck that were in the lot and continued to walk to the back alleyways that led to backstreets. Through the side streets of the small town he walked until he got to a horribly beaten down trailer park.

There he navigated past abandoned motorhomes, random barbeques and rouge tires. He walked past knee high weeds and fragments of broken fences, until he arrived at trailer that was shedding its yellowish paint and replacing it with a brown rust.

His couch was sitting in the grass next to the steps to his door. He set his bags down in the weeds and sat down.

AJ leaned back, stretched his feet out to rest on the top of a worn out red cooler. He closed his eyes, and felt good about finally getting his laundry done. Having accomplished that, he had already overachieved for the day.

This was gonna be a good week.
 
© 2014 - 2024 dtb84
Comments5
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magic6jewls's avatar
Hi Samm!

This is a wonderful narrative of unmotivated life.

AJ certainly has character! Through the things he does and his reaction to other people, we understand his character much better than if you were to describe his personality. 

I would just like to say that some description are a little redundant. Try to limit all description to one word, and make sure not to describe something twice. Your audience has a memory span, and a short story is short. They'll remember the "hot button" part. 

Other than that I don't have much to say. Wonderful story. Continue writing!