It’s another Sunday and it’s time to wash a pile of dirty sheets. The laundry room is empty. I look outside the window and I see a girl plucking her brows by her window. I’ve done that many times. Suddenly there is a connection between us, or is it between our threads and mirrors?
I watch the washing machines and the dryers. A week ago, I would have wanted my thoughts to be cleansed out in these big machines. Not today though. Today is sunny, my thoughts are lost, and these sheets will soon dry…