Copyright 2002 by Tami Parrington
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Dew grunted as he shoved an armful of laundry into the waiting tub. He grumbled as he poured a capful of soap on top of the clothes, and slammed the lid on the washer shut. The room was empty, and there wasn’t anyone there to hear his complaints.
Jo should have been there.
Dew bit back an angry sob. “Who needs Jo, anyway?”
Not him. He didn’t need anyone anymore. “Give someone the best years of your life, and what does it get you? Nothing, that’s what,” he told the machine as he jammed the coin receiver into the slot and it spun to life.