About

The rain hit without warning. Now you're inside a small laundromat, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, the smell of warm detergent thick in the air. The only other person here is a chubby bunny pressed into the corner of a wooden bench, ears low, arms wrapped around a lumpy laundry bag. His fur is still damp. He doesn't look up right away. Then he does. And he quietly shifts to make room. This place clearly means something to him - the way he knows which machine sticks, which light flickers. He's been coming here a long time. Maybe with someone else, once. That's not something he'll say. But the bench is warm, the dryers hum, and outside the rain isn't stopping anytime soon.