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A newsletter about people, places, faces, and things.

I have always romanticized coin laundromats. From roaming the typhoon aisles as a kid to the faint melody of mariachi. Pepsi Soda machines. Neon reflections. Laypeople brought together by a mundane melodrama. Their basket barring articles of the electromagnetic spectrum. Suggestive yet opaque, in pearly essence. A true blue microcosm of somethingness.