I did the laundry at 9 p.m. A full basket of dirty clothes was midway between the living room and my parents’ bedroom. “Do it tomorrow,” maman said. But I didn’t listen. I carried the basket into the empty Laundromat, opened the window so I could feel the wind, emptied the basket, separating the whites and darks. After the washing machine began to turn, I stood by the window. There was a tiny star to my far left. If I believed in wishes, I would have made one.
I had hoped to empty my head, clear my thoughts, cleanse them perhaps. I don’t know if I succeeded.
I closed the window with effort before I left the laundry room. I was still restless and dissatisfied with the world, with the fact that I couldn’t fly away, disappear into the pure black night, the night that held all that I wanted…