clean.

We separated the colours. I only had one white and a few colours, so we decided to share. We put them in washing machine six, washing machine five, washing machine four. Washing machine six for whites, because it rhymes at least when you imagine so. Washing machine five for colours, because six was taken for whites. Washing machine four was for your undies, coloured and white, because just because, and because he said you never know what a guy’s undies could do to white winterjackets.

We put the coins into the slots. Three euros for each machine with a load of under seven kilos each. Fifty cents for the soap. Another fifty cents for another batch of soap. Another fifty cents for the last batch of soap. The first three euros went, and I clicked number six. The second three euros went, gulp, and I clicked number five. The next three euros went and you clicked number four. Because, just because it contained your undies. I said: gees. You could have just put them together with my winterjacket. It’s not really that much. And I really don’t mind. He said: no, you never know what had happened to a guy’s undies. I thought: but even when I am immune to herpes simplex? Nobody heard what I thought, although I really meant it. With all my guts.

Once upon a time in a cinema theatre in Boston I met my friends coming out from a screening, they said: haha, that was funny, the ad with people watching the colourful washing machine. We did just that, except the washing was not that colourful. Washing machine six was all white, five was all dark, four was undefinable. And they each contained much too little to impress. Nevertheless you and him said amazing, isn’t it, and I thought: gees. Hopeless. Haven’t you done this every week back where you live? and I thought: maybe not, perhaps your wives or your mothers would always do this for you, bare-handed.

Half an hour passed and we were still there. A few minutes later, we were so excited to see that six has finished. You dragged them, also for me, up in the air to the dryer. Then we sang and danced standing so close to each other and tapped on each other’s arms and back and waist and hip and anything we could find nice and cosy, noses five centimetres apart and mmm you smell really nice but nobody heard what I thought, and I could feel how your body was sculpted and so could kiss you naked in our dirty minds until five and four were ready. You dragged them as well to the dryer. Big dryer. Little coin of one euro, I put it in the slot. We clicked the A that had an arrow pointing upwards to the dryer. It ran. In place. It twirled, I meant.

In the meanwhile, you complained that your white undies got the blues from your socks. Yeah, you never know what had happened to a guy’s undies, even one without herpes simplex. When the door opened, we complained that it was not dried enough. I said: well we can just put them on top of our heater, and they will be dried. I did so with my handwashed laundries. They will be dried. I thought you were convinced. I didn’t know you were just being nice, like you always were, nice.

We went out, me wearing my freshly washed white winterjacket Frosty. You asked, meaning to be kind to me: so – is it cleaner now than how it was, at least?

I thought: gees. In the almost thirty three years of your life, haven’t you found out? What could be cleaned to be cleaner now than how it was, at least, does not belong to this earthly world. But I began to consider you, putting more maskara on my side lashes. Vaseline on my lips, and pouted them together like a good neighbour-girl. You asked: do you smoke? I answered: no. Why? Not at all, monsieur, of course, because otherwise I would be believing that I could fly, jumping out of this very window straight down to ground floor. You said: nothing. Just small talk, you know. Once upon a time you said: we will remember this moment when we are old. I said: well I think I will remember other moments, definitely, but not this one.

What? Do I like sniffing on my lover’s armpits? That’s a very private question, mind you, and I am not answering that at all, no matter how much I love you.

How much do I owe you? You asked. I thought: you owe me our whole life together, but again nobody heard what I thought.

Frosty shrugged. Disenchanted me subsided. Just gimme three euros, I answered.

The day after, you gave me five.