A Soft Dryer Sheet

I walked down the sunny sidewalk until I slipped past the glass doors of the neighborhood laundromat. Under a low plastic folding table, an unused white fabric softener dryer sheet had drifted onto the blue linoleum tiles. I knelt down softly and gathered its gossamer rectangle between both hands. It was remarkably thin and gauzy, textured with thousands of tiny dimpled pores that felt powdery and dry against my palms. With a slow, patient motion, I folded it in half, then into quarters, watching the translucent web yield into a tidy, fragrant little cushion beneath my thumbs.