It was noon on Friday. Friday was wash day, Kerry's least favorite day. Doing the wash was such a pain. He had to gather together all the dirty clothes. He had to turn the shirts and slacks inside out to save wear and tear on the outside of the shirts and slacks. He had to empty all the junk out of all the pockets of his clothes.
Then he had to find quarters for each load of wash—four for the washer and three for the dryer. It'd be so nice to have a weekly maid, like his downstairs neighbor. Kerry piled all his clothes into the laundry basket and went downstairs. He was relieved to hear silence as he approached the laundry room; no one was using the machines. He put laundry soap and quarters into the washer, and set it at Warm Temperature and Regular Wash. A few minutes later, it was full of soapy water. He stuffed in half of the dirty clothes. This was going to be a two-load day.
He placed the half-full basket on top of the churning washer. He shut the laundry room door and walked back upstairs. He set his electronic timer to 35 minutes. When the washer was done, he'd reload it and put the first load into the dryer. He sat down and opened the newspaper to the California section: "Truck Runs Over Crossing Guard," said the headline.
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