Scrub scrub spray. Scrub scrub spray.
Oh, I missed a spot. Scrub scrub. I wonder if people who clean for a living get the same satisfaction from their work as I'm getting from cleaning my chain.
I raised my head for a moment and paused. The music played on.
Scrub scrub spray. Scrub scrub spray.
An hour passes and I barely notice. The music could have stopped, and I wouldn't have noticed. A shadow from behind offers me nigari, and after short discourse...
Scrub scrub spray. Scrub scrub spray.
Black turns into slimy soup. Spray spray. Soup turns into bare metal. Wipe. Ah, like new?
Grind grind. Still dirty. Repeat.
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