#40 of Short Stories
A possum does laundry.
~ The possum paused in his transfer of clothes from washer to the basket, the sounds of the laundromat all around him. One red tinted sock. One perfectly blue tinted sock. Confusion was afoot, but the possum steeled himself to the task at hand.
~ Cleanliness would wait for no mysteries. It wasn't until he was watching the load tumble in a dryer that he wondered aloud, "Do I even own a red shirt?"
~ The gas station smelled strongly. She couldn't quite untangle the mess of odors, but the fennec was pretty sure that stale coffee, burnt hot dogs, cheap cigs, and some amount of milk were the prime constituents. She looked over the six pack of beers...
~ It had been a long day's travel, having driven well into the night before Kevin found himself staggering up the steps to his front door. Stifling a yawn, he was thankful he'd left the porch light on several days before. "Ugggghhhh... so ready for...
~ Cresting the hill into the still dim morning sun, the kobold sighed before reaching back to shake the phoenix sleeping in the back seat. "Hey, Char, you need to get in the trunk. I'll let you know when we're past this checkpoint coming up."