Time passed. In LA, winter was over. Dead. It took Spring with it to the grave. April and Summer had arrived. They brought sunshine and hope in their carry-ons. It was the definition of a promise of better days. The Van Man believed the ladies. One more time.
His birthday came and went. Thirty-four years of not fitting in. Just the way he liked it. Van Man had a strong mind and body. He was capable of anything at his age. Laundry.
The previous two weeks had been filled with rehearsals, performances and grueling work. He had wondered if he could balance rehearsing two plays simultaneously. With a little finesse, he did. Van Man had filled his life with acting and, yet, he was not satisfied. Not even close. He worked construction for money. Maybe that would help fill the hole inside. It did not. It made his clothes dirty. So he laundered.
April Fool's passed and Easter was close. He had a performance later in the evening. "Back In Black" played and The Van Man dried his clothes. Slowly, a slight satisfaction mellowed his soul. He remembered that he had scored two primo tickets for AC/DC at Dodger Stadium in September. It's the little things, Van Man thought. And the dryer turned and the clothing tumbled.