The laundromat was pretty empty at this time of the night, or rather early morning. An elderly gentleman sat behind the counter; he was reading a paper and not paying too much attention to the few clientele within the shop. Though the sign on the door said NO PETS, he didn't mind the red-head who usually came in during the wee hours of the morning with her cat.
Maggie sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair catching up on the latest gossip with one of those weekly Hollywood rags. She was reading about how some actor and actress were caught doing something rather weird and kinky and how it might affect their careers.
"How can you read that crap?" Trump asked; he was licking his paws since there was nothing else better to do.
"It stimulates the neurons," Maggie replied without looking up from the article.
"More like stimulates the morons," Trump chuckled slightly.
"I heard that!" Maggie said and glanced over at Trump and gave him a wink.
She heard the dryer click and begin to slow down.
"Saved by the dryer," Trump stated and went back to licking his paws.
Maggie placed the magazine down on the table and went to the machine. Opening the door and feeling the hot air rush out and escape from its prison.
"Feels like home," a voice came out of nowhere.
"I wouldn't know," Mag replied nonchalantly. She was too tired to do anything else. She began to take the laundry out and fold it.
"Ain't you going to say hi, Magenta?" the voice asked.
"That's the colour of my name," Maggie replied. She didn't need to turn to know who was standing off to one side; she could tell by the voice that she hadn't heard in ages past. "It's been a hell of a long time, Jakk. What do you want?"
Jakk leaned up against a dryer; he was dressed in a three-piece suit, his blood red shirt sticking out in all the right places. He looked like a GQ model, his dark blue hair cut short and styled. The bangs not actually hiding the tattoo on his forehead.
"I just came by to chat with an old friend," Jakk replied.
No comments:
Post a Comment