The Cleaner

There were smudges on the bathroom mirror and it annoyed him that there was so much to do.

He wiped them off with a bathroom towel and folded it neatly and placed it on the towel rail and stood back to see if it was centered correctly.

The shower curtain was closed, and the bathroom mat was put in line with the bath, and the white robe was picked up from the floor and hung on the peg behind the door.

The kitchen was a mess, but he purposely avoided the dishwasher - washing each plate and piece of cutlery separately and drying them with a fresh dishcloth before placing them back into the cabinet.

The flowers were re-arranged in the Blenko vase on the dining room table and the spilled water replaced from the kitchen tap.

He picked up the clothes from the bedroom floor and separated the colours and whites, and placed the whites in the washing machine on a hot wash, and piled the colours into the washing basket for cleaning later.

The apartment had parquet flooring throughout.

He turned the dial on the combi-boiler to maximum and filled a bucket with the steaming water and added a small amount of bleach.

He could feel the heat through his marigolds as he dipped a dishcloth into the water.

He scrubbed the floors so hard the varnish flaked off into the cloth.

He scrubbed the furniture.

He scrubbed the walls.

He stopped mid-way to tumble dry the whites and put on a coloured wash – forgetting about the hot setting.

It took him three hours.

The colours ran red – but he didn't check.

Finally the apartment was clean.

He poured the dirty water from the bucket down the toilet and flushed the chain.

His marigolds came off with a pop.

He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and placed it over the gun.

He put the gun back in the drawer, and he spoke calmly under his breath as he slowly pushed it closed.

“She knew the rules.” he said.