09.36pm

Clugston
Clugston
Aug 28, 2017 · 2 min read

The steam whooshed pleasingly.

Hector felt a certain pleasure about the impending act of smoothing out his shirt. The way the creases gave way to sharp lines. Harmonious and pure.

All day he’d been wearing a t-shirt — his uniform at the Mac-N-Grill. He was certain than none of his co-workers ever put on a dress shirt, not even to go out, not even on dates. Most of them showed up to work in their uniform and left with it on, splattered with tiny droplets of grease and the heavy smell of flash fried lunches and microwaved sides. Oddly, Hector always noticed it was the…

Keep the story going. Sign up for an extra free read.

You've completed your member preview for this month, but when you sign up for a free Medium account, you get one more story.
Already have an account? Sign in

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade