snapcarve

In between the noise of a single washing machine and the white noise of the overhead lights, he heard the door open. Normally, he would have sat up and looked to see who had entered the Laundermat at this late hour (it was pushing 3 AM afterall), but the truth was he didn't care. All that really registered in his mind was that if it was someone looking for him, his night had already sucked, so getting his ass kicked was really no big deal.
He stared up at the ceiling, looking at the brown stains where water had leaked in and left a mark. He continued to do what he had been doing for the 20 minutes previous to someone entering, which was lay on the section of washers he currently resided and think about the course of his life.
The thoughts, as the usually did, flew through his mind at a breakneck speed. It was almost like an inventory check. He had been single for 15 months. He had only really gotten over the girl after the first 13. He was still a virgin. He had a bad haircut. His friends were morons. He had just been fired from his job. He has no car. And on top of all of that, tonight had happened.
He shifted his plane of view of over to the dryer where his shirt was currently spinning. It was then that he added "cold" to his list of current misfortune, for he was stuck in a freezing room in a pair of shorts and wife beater. He reached into his pocket and felt the cold collection of change he had picked up off the floor before he left his house, which was added to whatever motley collection of coins the drunk guy had shoved into his hand before stumbling away.
He started thinking about sad, albiet relatively simple series of events that lead him to be sitting in a Laundermat at 3 AM. It had started with a phone call from one of his friends telling him that there was a party that everyone was going to. Although he didn't like parties, in an effort to be more of a social creature, he had gotten dressed and then waited for his friends to show up. In time they did, and they made the trek across town to a persons house that none of them had ever been to before, but they had been assured that it was all good, so they went ahead and went in all the same.
They basically did the same thing that they did at every party they went to: his friends loaded up on alcohol and they found a nice open place for them to all hang out where they could drink and be social with each other yet ignore most everyone else. It was a good system, and worked well for most of the night. For a while it seemed, he was going to have a good night.
At some point, he wasn't really sure how in hindsite, he had started a conversation with a girl. This had struck him as odd at first, not so much that he was having a conversation with a girl, but that it had happened with a girl he had never met before. When you spend you're entire life in a small town, meeting people you've never met before is almost like experiencing vertigo.
So, for a while, the two talked about nothing really interesting. It was almost as if it were based on necessity more than anything, as they both noticed that the other wasn't drinking, and for some reason the sober people tended to band together in times like these.
It was at this point that the drunk duo entered stage right. Everyone who looked at them knew that the one that was hanging on the other was about to blow, and as they walked by various people it was almost like a weird game of russian roulette. As the two slowly shuffled their way through the room. Closer and closer they moved, until finally they were right in front of him.
Then, and only then the drunker of the two let loose, and covered him in vomit.
If he didn't know any better, he could swear he could almost hear God laughing at him.
So there he was, at a party, in front of all of his friends and a girl he was trying to impress, now covered in vomit. No matter what he did at that point, there was nothing he could do to make himself look cool. The notquiteasdrunk guy just started laughing, then pulled out some quarters and pushed them into his hand while muttering something about cleaning up before wandering off to try and find a bathroom for his friend to passout in.
In his mind he hoped the guy choked.
He had left the party immidately after that, deciding to just go ahead and walk home. It was only a few miles and he had a pretty good landspeed so all in all it wasn't really that big of a deal... as long as you ignored the fact he was covered in vomit. Rather than make that walk of shame home covered in the stuff, he decided to stop at the Laundermat and try to clean himself up.
All of a sudden, it occured to him while he was in the fog of his own misery that the dryer had stopped.
He got up, walked over, and opened up the machine. At the very edge of his vision he noticed someone to his left, but he didn't turn to look. He grabbed the shirt and pulled it over his head slowly. As his head came out through the top again, he saw her.
Although he had always believed in love at first sight, he had never really expected it to happen to him. But 5 seconds ago, it had.
She was perfect. A goddess. A prime example of everything he had ever wanted physically in a female. Somewhere he knew he jaw was on the floor and at some point he was going to have to stop and find it. As he put his arms through the shirt he continued to looked at her dumbstuck. It was at that moment she turned to him and smiled, and gave him a halfwave of her hand.
And in that moment, thoughts raced through his mind. It was almost like he had an ephiphany. He realized everything in his life had been building up to that moment. And in his mind, he saw his entire future in front of him. Them talking all night in this laundermat before she finally gave him a ride home. Him asking her out on a date. Her making the first move. Going out with each other for a good, long time. Finally moving away and in together. Both of them going to school then graduating. Moving to the big city. Working. Loving each other. Him asking her to marry him. She saying yes. A big ceremony with all of their friends and family. The first child. The second child. The kids going to school. Moving out to the suburbs. A dog, a cat, a goldfish. Two cars. Sitting on their front porch together, old, drinking lemonade, waiting to see their grandchildren. It was happy. It was perfect. In those few seconds he had seen his entire life ahead of him, and he liked it.
It was at that point she started to walk over to him, looking almost embarrassed. She had her hands in her pockets and her shoulders where sort of huntched over. He closed the door on the dryer and watched her. She walked in front of him. And then she spoke.
"I hate to ask this, but I forgot my purse, do you have any change?"
And in that moment he saw her close up, and realized that she was even more stunning than he had originally thought. In his mind he wondered why people weren't throwing rose petals at her feet and wishing that he had some in his pocket so that he could throw them himself. He closed his eyes, and in his mind he felt the weight of the change in his pocket. And in his mind he knew that this was the moment, the cresendo, the climax of everything. And so he did the only thing he knew how to do.
He opened his eyes. There was a beat. And then he spoke.
"I don't believe in change."
And with that he turned around and headed out of the Laundermat and into the warm, dark night. He never looked back.

J.R.V.A.

hehe that was good

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And as she plays,
her sweet song of laughter
floats through the air
and warms my heart

Angel

Wow! Great story. I wish I could write like that.
A very interesting ending. It can be taken different ways, left up to the reader to get what they wish out of it.
Me, I believe in change....

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In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was within me an invincible summer.
~Albert Camus