Idly, I traced the grooves etched into the title of the book before me.

  Encyclopedic Compendium of Forbidden Workings

  Volume C - Cleaning

  As Discovered and Understood

  By GrandWarlock Merl

  The title pulsed faintly with each pass of my finger before sinking back into inert leather.

  I exhaled and let my gaze drift to the world outside my tiny bedroom window.

  Months.

  It had been months since I checked the book from the Library.

  Not once had I cracked it.

  Sure, I could make excuses.

  At first, It hijacked it.

  Then I got kidnapped.

  Honestly, that one was a pretty good excuse.

  Then I spent the next few months healing.

  Also a good excuse.

  Ok… I spent the first few weeks healing, then the next couple of months avoiding.

  Tomato, Potato.

  Wait.

  Potahtoe, Tomato?

  I sighed. Never mind.

  But in the end, that is what they were, right?

  Excuses.

  But the truth?

  The truth was I was afraid.

  I didn’t want to open a cookbook of cleaning recipes.

  I didn’t want to learn I was the magical equivalent of a dust rag.

  I didn’t want to be normal.

  I didn’t want to be disappointed.

  “This is stupid,” I mumbled. I threw a glance over my shoulder to the eldritch portal glowing under my bed.

  I raised an eyebrow when Stupid failed to appear.

  I couldn’t put it off any longer. Not because I didn’t want to. Heavens, nothing so simple.

  Rather, I couldn’t delay any longer because It had taken to carrying around random books.

  Every time I turned a corner, he’d be there “by chance,” dramatically opening one:

  “Oh look at that, it didn’t kill me.”

  He’d shrug, toss the book over his shoulder, and walk away.

  Infuriating.

  Even worse, Stupid saw him do it — and naturally wanted in on the fun.

  So now she carried around a book, too.

  Except her book was Workman’s Comp.

  Which she would theatrically flip open, gasp loudly, and hurl the man-eating book over her shoulder.

  Which really did try to kill people.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “People” including me.

  I think it might have eaten a customer or two as well.

  I didn’t want that kind of responsibility on my head.

  So here I was.

  I rolled my eye…

  and cracked the book open.

  ____

  Mrs. Glubz, Glubz mind you, not Gloobz, she sniffed to herself, was a very hard worker.

  She had started the Tavern all by herself.

  She had also kept it afloat.

  All by herself.

  When she had taken pity on the half-elf, she had expected him to move on.

  Quickly.

  Not still live here, Eighteen-something months later.

  Her cleaning arm began scrubbing faster.

  Not that he was a bad tenant, really.

  He never missed rent. He was decent enough.

  He was also respectful — even if he had yet to pronounce her name correctly.

  Not even once!

  She was now cleaning feverishly with both arms.

  Then he had disappeared for a while. She had thought he finally skipped out on her — like everyone eventually did, but a tiny horrifying rat of a goblin (and that is saying something), named Ugly — an aptly fitting name — arrived to pay his rent.

  She huffed and really put her back into the scrubbing.

  Then he arrived looking like… well, like he looked now.

  Except he was still polite. Still the same. She still couldn’t really complain.

  She paused to wipe the sweat from her brow.

  No, the problem was when —

  An explosion rocketed from upstairs. She didn’t even need to guess where it might have originated.

  “BEEEEEEEEG!!!!!!” Mrs. Glubz screeched.

  ____

  I coughed, blinking the flashbang from my eyes.

  Why had the book exploded when I opened it?

  I looked around to assess the damage.

  My jaw dropped.

  My room…

  It was utterly spotless.

  Every single speck of dust was gone.

  The paint was fresh.

  My bed was made.

  …My bed was made.

  I had never made my bed before.

  Even It had pointed it out.

  My eternal pile of dirty clothes was clean and folded.

  Even the mold on the ceiling was gone.

  But the most disturbing of all?

  The clothes I was wearing…

  were now clean.

  They were pressed.

  There wasn’t a single wrinkle on them.

  The book sniffed and slammed itself shut, as if offended to be opened into such a dirty room.

  Accentuated by the fact it refused to open when I tugged on it again.

  Please, please, PLEASE tell me I am dreaming right now.

  “BEEEEEEEG!!” I heard Mrs. Glubz screech as she stomped up the stairs, the tiny ball of goblin energy preparing to unleash itself on its new target.

  Said target being me.

  I didn’t even get the chance to move before she kicked the door open, waving a wooden spoon in my direction.

  “How many tiiiimes have I told youuuuuu — “

  She paused. Then her jaw dropped as she looked around the utterly immaculate room.

  Then, by the Ancients above, she blushed.

  “Oh Beeg,” she tittered —

  Tittered. Mrs. Glubz.

  Tittered.

  — and tucked her spoon into her apron before smoothing her hair.

  “I love what you’ve done with the place. Please, do carry on.”

  She smiled sweetly, stepped outside, and threw one last loving glance over the room before softly closing the door.

  I stared in disbelief.

  This is not happening right now.

  “It, did you see Beegz power?” I heard Stupid breathe from under my bed.

  I spun to see both It and Stupid staring at me, wide-eyed from under the bed.

  Both of them slowly slithered back through the portal.

  Leaving me alone in my room.

  Well, alone except for my book.

  The book that just informed me it thought I was a slob.

  I slumped down onto the floor, already dreading what new disaster this misunderstanding was going to cause when I got back to work.