Ficlets

“Here’s your clean clothes,” Dad puffed, handing me a stack of folded shirts and pants.

I accepted the pile from him and buried my nose in the soft fabric of the first shirt on the stack. Mmmmm. Clean laundry. So fresh and calming, so….clean.

The scent made me think of home…this is what we smelled like, all four of us. Or, rather, all three of us, because one of the twins was prone to wearing the same shirt or pair of pants for days in a row.

I couldn’t place the gentle aroma of my fresh, clean clothes. It was laundry detergent, of course, but what more than that? It smelled like love. It smelled like peace; like happiness on a clear, sunny, lazy day.

So sweet…

“Emma?” Dad asked.

I snapped back to reality.

“Sorry.”

When I’d safely raced up a flight of stairs and turned a corner, I couldn’t help it. I buried my nose in the clothing again.