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There were more pleasant things to do on a Saturday night than spending it at a laundromat, avoiding eye contact with the other people folding and sorting their clothes as she stuffed her underwear into the machine, all while angrily muttering under her breath.
This was positively an aspect of life in this world she could do without, and one she hadn’t considered beforehand. The first time had been rather tough, trying to figure out how this worked. For someone not familiar with the mechanics of this place, it had seemed like rocket science.
Finally able to sit back and enjoy the thrilling sight of her clothes getting washed, she reached into her bag, only to find it without the book she thought she brought. “Oh bloody hell,” she muttered, sinking further into her seat and groaning in displeasure.