He was quiet, as he always was. He would stroll in, do his business, and leave without a word. Nobody questioned his presence, the lanky, exhausted man frequenting the room. He did what needed to be done.
He checked his watch. He checked it again. And again. The clock ticked on, but nothing would change.
This was hopeless.
He stuck a sporkful of frozen yogurt into his mouth.
Once a boring, everyday chore, and now it's back. Haunting.
Billy leaned back in his rough, uncomfortable laundromat chair, lips wrapped gently around his spork. Glazed eyes were right out the window, watching the clouds. Mind elsewhere. Back to the shelter. Back to that day. Back to Pen-
No, he thought, shaking his head.
He checked his watch again. Two minutes had gone by. His yogurt tasted awful. His stomach was twisting. He just wanted to leave. So many thoughts, but nothing was coming to mind.
The League was displeased with his progress. He never met quotas. Socializing was out of the question. Meetings were horrendous. Focusing was not something the doctor could handle. A threatening whinny often brought him back to his senses; an order to pay attention.
But she would always cross his mind.
Was it even worth it?
He checked his watch again. Three more minutes went by. He sighed.
I never asked for this.
Time ticked on as he numbed.
I'm so sorry.
The machine finally buzzed, a dull, echoing sound in the back of his head. The noise that always said "it's almost time for her to leave!"
He made his way to the dryer. Her dryer. Not many ever used it. He did. He always did.
The smell of fabric softener. So many memories. He clung to that smell as long as he possibly could before it was a mere part of his imagination. He never wanted to lose it.
His clothes were warm. He shakily held a sweater close as a quiet choke escaped his throat.
He took a deep breath and hastily shoved the rest of his belongings into his old laundry basket. The job was done. Time to get out of here.
I loved you, Penny.
Another day,
yet another chore for Billy.