Day 2,893 —Laundromat— with a PICTURE of a LEAF #677

A week before I moved out of the Georgetown apartment complex, someone knocked on my door, looking desperate. She started by telling me.  

“Hi, you don’t know—” 

She asked me to borrow my laundromat card. You get one for free, but they cost twenty bucks to replace if you lose it. 

She offered earnestly to give me money, so I would know she would return it. Knowing, I was leaving soon I felt good being able to do this person a favor; even though, she came off too earnest, too dramatic; I knew she was hiding something. 

She promised to return the card. I was not surprised when she didn’t; however, I am still impressed by the effort she put in to convince me she would return it. 

I was never in a place where she could have convinced me of her story. She was too eager, too prepared, to be truthful. Part of me was curious about what she was up to, and I was tempted to ask, but I was hoping there would be a part two, and she was going to tell me another story. I love stories. 

I considered the juxtaposition as I wondered if she knew that I knew.