Malena Lopez

Laundromat

Isaias sat sideways on the very last of a line of pale blue fiberglass chairs. He was looking out of the large laundromat glass window up at the sky above the old mostly run-down buildings that lined the street. With the coming evening, it had begun to morph from a pale blue cloudless sky to a mixture of pink, purple, white, and dark gray as the encroaching clouds rolled in above rushing into one another. There was no doubt a storm coming. Unfortunately for Isaias, he had to wait until after work before he could even begin his laundry, which most likely meant he would not be home before it became dark. The storm was just icing on the cake.