Jeff lay in the reclined front seat of his Jeep, dozing. The afternoon sun streamed in through the open driver-side window, coating the interior of the car with the hot yellow glow of summer. His clothes had just gone into the dryer, leaving a good 40 minutes for a catnap.
A breeze drifted through the Jeep's open windows, aimlessly teasing his hair until it was tickling his cheek. Jeff noticed this and smiled, thinking of how much it reminded him of his last lover's touch.
He shifted slightly, listening with half an ear to the sounds of passers-by as they carried their laundry to and from their cars. The mothers were scolding their children in strident, pitched voices while the fathers told jokes and spoke of the season's grape harvest. The washing machines and dryers faintly whirred from inside the laundromat.
There was a soft click, then Jeff felt something cold, metal and round pressed to his temple. He opened his eyes.
"Is it time?"
He'd never figured on snuffing it here, in the parking lot of a laundromat, not when there was so much work left to be done in this world. But he knew that such a thing was at best arbitrary, left up to the fickle whims of Brahman.
"It is." The deep, male voice came from behind him, doubtless standing right outside the car.
Jeff sighed, briefly reflecting on his own life. There had been a time, not so long ago, when he would have fought -- fought for his right to live, fought for the chance to complete his life's work, fought to hold on for the ones he loved. He smiled and closed his eyes; that time was over.