“I’m sorry about today in the woods. I shouldn’t have said anything about your former lover.” Zeb was folding clothes, which he had just brought up from the laundry room next to the garage. His belongings were freshly dried and smelled like pine. The plastic basket on the corner of his bed was filled with different colored underwear, a T-shirt, two rugby shirts, and a pair of running shorts. Zeb did his laundry every few days, unlike other tenants who were lazy and left it in dirty piles on their bedroom floors. The young man wasn’t like that. He had obviously taken tidiness to heart. Rarely did he have a large quantity of his wardrobe to wash. All of the loads the young man processed were always small in size.
Nolan stood by the bedroom’s open door, which he closed behind him, giving the
