Between cycles

An original literary non-fiction-style account of spending a morning in a neighbourhood laundrette.

At nine, a man arrived carrying one small bag and a book so heavily marked with paper slips that it would not close. He checked the machines before choosing a chair. When I asked whether he was waiting for someone, he pointed to a washer behind me. He knew its usual cycle length, he said, and could read a chapter before it finished. His alarm was already set.

A woman with two large baskets did not sit down. She placed a row of empty bags on the folding table and opened a different one as each load came out. Another customer began arranging a wet blanket across two chairs. They looked at each other, then at the narrow table. After a brief exchange, the woman moved her remaining bags to the window ledge and the blanket was folded without covering the floor.

Beside the change machine, a customer showed a newcomer how to tell which dryers were available. He did not touch her washing or choose a machine for her. Later, she asked him a second question and he looked up from his newspaper to answer it.

The room grew quiet when the wash cycles settled into their steady turning. Nobody introduced themselves. Yet when the man with the book stood to move his washing, the customer beside him lifted her bag from the spare chair without being asked. He placed his basket there, thanked her and returned the chair before opening his book again. Their names remained unknown to me. Their small arrangements were easier to notice.

What do you learn about how the customers manage their time and shared space?