“No, no, this is my favourite,” he uttered loud.
He looked at it, his own, and sees those patches of black like soot with no definite shape, not circle, not square, not rectangle, but there. One could see it, from closeness.
He held it and stood from where was and stretches it afar to see if still noticeable. Yes, it could, very worrisome.
To save face, he tried the oldest trick, water, it was known as a purifier, not always though he thought. But still, he tried, for there is nothing wrong with giving a guess.
Firstly, not to forget, what was it? White in colour, it was, with some decorations of both black and white lines, nicely structured to give such a beautiful alluring stance. It had a pinch of blackness to it, making it more admirable, who does not know that black matches everything? Ask them, any fashionista and test to see if there is a lie to it. It had white buttons to it, a flair of old, one with a picture of like the them days of kingdoms and empires.
He poured water onto it, tried scrubbing it but nothing happened. It did not help, it actually made it stretch, it’s marking, now the soot sort of like was spread all over.
He decided to climb down on the stairs of their home and use another help, soap, perhaps it might help. Adding a secondary to water always played the magic after all. Look at plants- rain and sunshine. Look at birds- rain and wind.
Safety first, he switched off the socket, wears something else he did not intend to his top and heads down to where soap was and with a bottle of water.
It never should be a dull day, he walked down the stairs step by step while singing a song:
for it is well things change from what they were
He reached the soap and applies his thinking, but nothing happened, the shirt does not appear clean. Worried, this was his favourite shirt, he asked for an opinion from one of the inhabitants of the house after he had walked in.
“ The iron box did this,” he said while showing the shirt.
“It nearly burned it,” she responded back .
“ How can I remove this soot?”
“Try paraffin , though as it seems it is highly unlikely. But I thought the iron box was still functional?”
“ On this time, it misbehaved.”
“Sorry about that.”
He walks out and heads back to his bedroom, felt bad for not having to wear his favourite shirt while going out, he only could wear it at home now. He folds it nicely and returns it back to the drawers.
Photo by Cherry Laithang on Pexels.