The Laundress

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Face dirty, back sore and hands red and raw, Maude climbed the stairs, her bag of laundry clutched tightly in her strong fingers. Behind her trailed Midge, her daughter, her bag of laundry slung over her shoulder. Midge was always looking around, and Maude could almost see the daydreams swarming in her head. Maude knew that none of the lovely scenery was there for them. They could pass through, but the beauty would never touch them, never change anything.

Maude had not always been a laundress. Once she was a respected person in the community, with a husband and a nice home. Her husband, Graham, had been kind to her. He was a fisherman, and even though he was gone for a few days at a time occasionally, she had always loved him and been faithful. Then came the birth of Midge, and everything changed. Maude had looked with joy and love at the baby in her arms, the midwife standing over them with a rag wiping the baby down, revealing the baby’s bright red hair. The midwife began to tsk-tsk quietly, shaking her head. Maude’s joy and love turned to horror. Where did this red hair come from? Both she and Graham had light hair, not red. Although Maude had not been unfaithful to her husband, and the child was hers and Graham’s, no one believed this to be true, not even Graham. Thrown out of her home and shunned by her husband, she was shamed and penniless and left to raise her daughter on her own.

With a sigh, Maude called to Midge to get her head out of the clouds. They had laundry to do. Midge smiled brightly, and for a moment Maude saw her husband in the girl’s face. Closing her eyes against the memory, she stiffened her back and climbed.

Copyright ©2025 Lisa Paul. All rights reserved.

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The incomparable Violet is our host. Her challenge: Choose one of these three artworks and let it take you wherever it wants. Write whatever it stirs in you — a memory, a question, a scene, a poem. All images are open-use selections from the National Gallery of Art website.

W3 Prompt #189: Wea’ve Written Weekly
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Published by lisaapaul

I’m a paralegal, a widow, mother and grandmother.

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21 thoughts on “The Laundress”

  7. Lisa, this really moved me. The red-hair moment with the midwife was devastating, and the way Maude carries both love and loss up those stairs felt very real to me. You’re such a good writer.

    One small ask for the future: since W3 is a poetry prompt, could you please share poems, rather than prose?

    Much love,
    David

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