31 Days Of Flash Fiction - Day 4

Here's a little creep to ease you into the weekend.

Hope you're not washing clothes tonight. ;-)

Last Wash

The thumping sound is muted by the falling coins, but not enough for her not to hear it.

She turns, glancing down the shining rows of washing machines, all quiet but one.

The Laundromat empty, except for her.

She moves down the row, clutching change, her fist tight, eyes wide-staring at the frothing water on the other side of the porthole.

She leans close.

And sees the teeth in its mouth before it bursts through the glass.