Margen
You sleep eight hours on top of this. I feed it into the calender at quarter past six: a hundred and sixty degrees, two kilos wet, and it comes out dry and pressed in forty seconds.
There are five of us. Rosana folds, Yeni counts, I feed the roller with both arms. Nine hundred a day, plus the pillowcases.
Yesterday one came through with an earring sewn into the hem. Rosana dropped it in the jar, which is up to fourteen now.
'Nobody ever comes for them,' she says.