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.
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