After a one-week hiatus, the blogosphere's twelfth most popular writing exercise is back!
Each week, I will post three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. I'll also attempt to write something using the same three words.
Leave a comment if you participate. Many fun and interesting people might visit your blog.
This week's words are:
It was a quarter to nine and the laundromat was completely empty, save for the cashier, a burly dark-skinned man with a ring of unkempt black hair around the perimeter of his head, who more times than not appeared to be asleep.
There was an island of washing machines in the middle of the room. The dryers were along the back wall. At the far end of the building opposite the cashier stood a snack machine, a drink machine, and a Galaga game. Jason and Lacey were at the last washing machine nearest the snack machine.
Jason had figured this would be the perfect place to confront her. No phones, no television, no distractions. She wouldn't be able to leave until the clothes were finished. He waited until she had finished putting the first load into the washer and closed the lid.
"So... who's Alex?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible, which wasn't very.
Lacey, who had been walking towards a chair, stopped and spun to face Jason, who was leaned against the washing machine.
"Where did you hear that name?" she asked, almost angrily.
"It doesn't matter where. Who is he?" Jason shot back quickly, not backing down.
"Where did you get that name from?!" Lacey demanded, her voice now raised to a level that could surely be heard by the cashier.
"From your phone," Jason admitted, calmly.
"From my phone?! What were you doing going thru my phone?!" She was getting more agitated by the minute.
"Come on, Lacey. Your phone is always ringing. You never tell me who it is. You never volunteer any information at all. You're so closed off and private." Even as he spoke, Jason felt as if he had suddenly crossed a line.
"Did it ever cross your tiny, self-centered brain that maybe there's a reason I'm that way. That maybe, just possibly, there are some things you don't need to know, and wouldn't want to know about me?"
"You're just avoiding the question, Lacey," Jason accused.
"And you're a jealous jerk who up until five minutes ago I thought trusted me!"
Tears had begun to stream down her face. But even as he watched them fall, Jason couldn't help wondering if they were real or merely tears of convenience. Lacey picked up her purse and marched towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Jason's question went unanswered.
When the door closed, Jason glanced up towards the counter where the burly cashier had apparently taken an interest in the scene that had just played out.
"Never seen one leave that fast before," the cashier spoke as if talking to himself, barely shaking his head. "Didn't even make it to the rinse cycle."
"No I would not sleep in this bed of lies, so toss me out and turn in. And there'll be no rest for these tired eyes. I'm marking it down to learning..."