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The Local Laundromat Broken plastic baskets heaping with soiled laundry. Dust balls dancing precariously on a dirty floor, trying to keep in tune to music playing in the background. Rows of steel machines sounding like jets taking off, jerking as if trying to break free from bolts holding them to cement platforms. Pungent smells of bleach and ammonia mixing with sweet fragrances of detergents and fabric softeners. People sitting on chairs, lined in a row, reading antiquated magazines, others peering through dryer windows, as if watching a favorite show on television, fanning their face from the heat. Children running around, driving laundry carts like bumper cars at a carnival, while mothers fold dingy, gray clothes, lovingly placing them back into broken plastic baskets. |
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