The Laundry of Lost Causes
Marcus Vane's life was a masterpiece of the mundane. He owned a laundromat in Queens, a narrow, fluorescent-lit space that smelled eternally of bleach and cheap detergent. He spent his days folding white sheets and watching the rhythmic tumble of the dryers. He spoke in short, dry sentences and never looked anyone in the eye for more than two seconds. To the neighborhood, Marcus was just a...
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