Light Starch

Confessions of a Mystery Novelist...

Light StarchKelly brushed a damp strand of straight, black hair away from her face as she bent over the laundry bag. It was only eight o’clock in the morning, but it was already warm outside, and much worse inside. The heat was really the only thing she didn’t like about working at the laundry/dry cleaner. That and the customers who thought they could drop off a full bag of laundry and get it back within half an hour.

The blue nylon bag gapped open at the top as Kelly undid the drawstring. It was part of her job to count the items in each bag and make sure they tallied with the customer’s count. Slowly she started going through everything. When she’d finished the count, she noticed that there were still some crumpled-up clothes at the bottom of the bag. With an irritated sigh, she reached in to pull out the…

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