Phoebe heard a beep and stopped fiddling with a thumb tack to retrieve a load of her clothes from the dryer. While she was glad to have more clothes—especially underwear—something about her wardrobe didn’t quite fit anymore. Had it ever fit? Most of these were pieces that her aunt either bought for her, encouraged her to buy, or would have encouraged her to buy. The colors were too pastel. Too easily ruined by bloodstains.
Regardless, before she could do anything with the clothes, all of them needed to be washed. The smell became noticeable on the drive home. She’d packed them all in one trunk, and opening it only confirmed her fears: It was the perfume her aunt had gifted her. She’d kept the travel size bottle in her backpack with her other toiletries and opted to wrap the full-size bottle in shirts to keep it safe. But that had backfired. The bottle had broken en route to Stern’s, soaking everything in floral-smelling liquid.
She stretched before piling her dry clothes into a laundry basket. Now that the machine had stopped, she could hear Cat tidying up his own room. She could also hear Julia singing in the kitchen. She walked closer to the stairs for a better listen. Upbeat music was playing and Julia sang along, hitting every note but obviously caring more about having fun than her performance.
01.08.2025
-