Laundromat
Adriana stuffed her hands deeper into her knee length waistcoat as she stared down the aisles. Situated in a neighborhood of empty warehouses, the laundromat had a tinted glass window with the words “Sam’s Suds” stenciled on it in fading letters. Adriana had entered a passcode in order to unlock the door. Occasionally a twitching junkie stumbled down the street or a distant car revved its engine. Though buzzing warmth emanated filled the room, she still felt cold. She was used to laundromats circulating aromas of floral detergent but this one just smelled of pungent chlorine. Rows of dryers had their viewing portholes sealed shut. And instead of clothes inside them, tiny fetuses floated in a synthetic concoction meant to imitate amniotic fluid. Somewhere behind the walls there must have been support units pumping necessary nutrients to the fetuses through a tube attached to their belly button. Some of the fetuses were barely the size of her palm while others quietly sucked their fully formed thumbs.
