Yulia uses the laundrette as a source of divination. Sit and stare into the swirl of soap and socks and see a glimpse of what’s to come. It might not be as accurate as tarot cards or tea leaves, but it’s more satisfying somehow. An hour removed from everyday existence, an excuse to think, a chance to dream, an opportunity to plan.
Her main worry is what she’ll do when this place closes down. It just wouldn’t be the same sitting on the kitchen floor watching the washing at home. Everyone would say she’d gone mad.
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Notes:
1. Written January 12th (or maybe January 13th), 2026
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