Rinse. Repeat. (Friday Fictioneers)
“Oh, no. No, no.” She moves the dish soap to the right. Hand soap shifts left. Lotion next. Sanitizer last. They’re lined up by height, labels facing out. She makes an adjustment here, a shift there. One at a time. Left to right, tallest to smallest. Again. And again. “This doesn’t go here.” She picks…
