Joyce, Part 3: she smelled a rat. No, not the that lay alonside the card-op. Ew, nasty.

She set the basket upon the not-to-clean counter, and approached the paper-towel dispenser.  Of course, that was empty.  So her only option was to nudge the carcass to the other side of the laundry area.  Yes, she had some paper towels and spray ammonia with her, but these were for wiping the counter tops, so she could fold her laundry on atleast a reasonably clean surface.  Disgusting.  Even the trash bin was borderline overflowing with empty soap containers, flurries of dryer sheets, and a whole lot of fast food containers.

No, the real stench, came from those long-stemmed roses.  The ones Linda had raved about - to about everyone she knew.  Since her workplace policy forbade pics on-site, she did, however, bring them outside, to a picnic table - belonging to the office next door - and selfied her and them both.

Things would run their course, Joyce knew this - like a roman candle, it emits cascade after cascade of uniquely, beautiful sparks, but then it goes out - its heat-worn shell, when cool, either languishes in a field, or ends up in the trash.

Flowers at work.  Unless it's about someone's 40th, or so-n-so just became a gramma...anything much outside of that, just comes off ... showy.  Lin's so-called luv was playing her like pseudo-classical.  Moms know, ya know.  Joyce didn't know luvey-duv's name, but whoever th... he/she/it was, luvey was 35-something - that part, she knew.  Messing with a young girl...it should be taken out and SHOT!!!

Joyce loaded the dryer, then lit up another cigarette.  Above her, read a "NO SMOKING" sign.  She glared at it, then flipped it the bird.