I found her in the laundromat, minding her own business between wash and spin. While the Armenian washing lady looked over my shoulder dressed in her sparkly shirt as though she was going to break out in a disco move any second. Brand spanking new, soft brown towels swirling around in the machine....the beginnng.
As I smile imagining them against my body, she smiles knowingly to herself, as though she and Mary have a secret and it suddenly becomes clear.....to all of us.
We are all connected.....even by a thin thread of knowing.
Xxm
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