Holding Hands Under the Laundromat Folding Table

Holding Hands Under the Laundromat Folding Table

I was at the local laundromat on 4th Street, waiting for a dryer to finish so I wouldn't be late for a shift. Mark from my old college study group was there folding towels, except he looked like Mark but acted like my current coworker Chris. It wasn't awkward at all; we ended up sharing a cup of terrible vending machine coffee while sitting on the plastic chairs. He reached over to wipe a drop of coffee off my thumb, and instead of pulling away, he just held my hand under the folding table. My heart was pounding so hard because people kept walking past us with giant laundry baskets, but neither of us let go. He asked what I was doing after work, and right when I started to answer, the loud buzzing of the industrial dryer went off and snapped me awake. I woke up with this intense, heavy flutter in my chest that took twenty minutes to shake off.