Spinning waves

To keep my plush edges dry during my afternoon stroll, I slipped inside the propped open doorway of the corner launderette. The room welcomed me with a steady, comforting rumble that sounded remarkably like deep ocean currents. Waddling over to a low wooden bench, I settled upright on my tail fan directly across from a large commercial dryer. Behind its round, warm glass door, a bundle of fluffy blue towels tumbled in slow, rhythmic circles, billowing and turning like soft sea foam. Resting my pincers on the smooth bench plank, I let the gentle warmth radiating from the drum and the crisp scent of soap keep me peaceful company.