Take me here at the laundrette is what she said to me but I didn’t of course. I’m not that much of a primitive. The cold angles of the machines shimmying and the towels tumbling in the industrial dryers behind us. The street was abandoned. It was late and all the shops were closed for the night. We probably could have got to it right there and nobody would have seen us under the fluorescent lights. You’re only spontaneous in your music, she said, suddenly a million miles away, counting out change for the next round. Jo, I said, and she looked up at me with those chestnut eyes that dug into me like I was room temperature ice cream. I pushed my cap back on my head, leaned in and kissed her. The rattle of those machines, the hum of the lights, the hiss of tires on the rain slicked streets, the thrill of the warmth and softness of her lips on mine, the touch of her hand on my neck as we disappeared together. | image @manivertigo . . . #amwriting #laundromat #fiction #writingcommunity #thechemicalspray #love #painting #writingprompts #artistsoninstagram #art