Squeaky Clean

There’s a sound that tiles and counter-tops make when they’re perfectly done. Sometimes it takes more time, sometimes less, to get the kitchen so it makes that sound. Today it took longer, it was a big meal. It has been more and more lately, my man has a big appetite.

He’s very good at keeping things clean, so it’s not usually difficult to keep things nice. I just wish he would eat better, his diet is appalling, honestly. Fatty, often marinated in alcohol. He says rich food goes with the territory- he has a reputation to uphold. Pillar of the community, my man. Visit http://hanover-cleaning.com/ if you need professional cleaning services.

That’s where I come in, I’m ashamed to say, a lot of the time. If the offer of a quick buck won’t get the deadbeats to come round, I have to engage in other persuasive methods. Everyone has their own way of getting dinner ready, this is mine. Though I don’t partake myself.

He tells me that if I’m good, if I keep fixing his meals for him and keeping the house clean, one day I’ll go through The Change. He tells me that we’re doing a good thing for the community, keeping trash off the streets. Keeping them squeaky clean. And when I’m standing in the garden in the full mid-day sunshine, when the glamour is weak enough that I know it’s there, sometimes I still believe him.

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Writer of mainly spec-fic, I also play roleplaying games, particularly enjoying the shared storytelling.

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