The metal was hot but he knew he had to pick it up. He took the handle in his right hand, the plastic cool and smooth to his touch. Despite its uneven shape it was well balanced as he lifted it. He looked at it like he’d never seen one before, much less even used one. True, he hadn’t really used one, not without help.
He’d had a few lessons over the previous few weeks but he wasn’t really confident that he remembered that much. Her words went in one ear and although they didn’t quite come out the other, they did seem to scramble around inside his brain.
She’d given him a leaving present of all the things she thought he’s need in his new life. He packed them away in the old banger he’d had for his 18th birthday along with his clothes and one of those packs he’d found on the internet containing “one of everything you’ll ever need.” There weren’t any of the things she’d bought him in the pack. She was always right.
It was time. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He held it poised like he’d seen her do a hundred times, a thousand times. He put it down on the surface, shuffled it about and picked it up again. Straight away he saw he had made a crease, almost 8 inches long. Did he spray it now? Or was that before?
He smoothed the fabric, got the iron ready for a second go and wished he’d listened to his mother more closely.