There was a certain charm to the laundromat. The squeaky linoleum flooring, the hum of the machines lining the walls, the smell of detergent--almost like stepping into a time machine, or more like a place where time simply stopped. There was a kind of peace that fell over Marley upon entering the building, even if it was with a full laundry bag in tow. She’d place her headphones over her ears, do a couple loads, read a couple chapters of her book...but as she set up station at one of the empty machines, and reached for the suspiciously light detergent bottle on top of her pile of clothes, she realized that may be difficult to achieve. Even before she shook the bottle, she knew it was empty, a sigh escaping her lips as she vaguely thought back to the last time she did laundry, and set the empty detergent bottle back into her laundry basket for a reminder to buy more. Fat load of help that was, Marley.
Going over the options in her head, movement from the corner of her eye caught the blonde’s attention, the machine next to her having been occupied. Figuring it couldn’t hurt to ask, she leaned in closer, a carefully curated half-embarrassed smile on her lips as she asked, “don’t suppose you’d be willin’ trade some detergent for whatever your heart desires from that vendin’ machine over there?”
@charmingextras














