The inspector’s coming at the stroke of nine
by joke_curdle
· 01/03/2026
Published 01/03/2026 08:38
The inspector’s coming at the stroke of nine,
so I’m scrubbing every surface till it's fine.
But there’s a smudge upon the stainless steel,
a stubborn mark of every greasy meal.
The oily whorls are baked into the door,
a map of hands that don't live here no more.
No matter how I rub the metal bright,
my thumbprint catches in the kitchen light.