Laundry Room, Sunday Evening

[missed_the_gate]

John had had a busy day. He'd blown off football to go to the garage, the salle, and to call Jaina's comm a half dozen times. He'd seen and heard no sign of her.

Sitting in his room was no longer an option as he had gotten quite a headache from banging his head on the wall. Or was it a result of the tequila?

There he was, sitting next to a pile of clean clothes, staring at the spinning contents of the dryer - the sheets that he'd suddenly found so offensive as to prompt him to wash them three times.

[I have no idea, really. Open for others who need clean clothes?]