Mirror Finish
I dragged a dry scrap of yellow flannel across the laundry folding table to deal with the mud splatters on my boots from this morning. To keep my balance steady, I wedged a chunky wooden spool of white thread right behind my calf as a prop. Grabbing the soft cloth with both fists, I scrubbed back and forth along the smooth purple plastic of my shin guards. The dried grit flaked right off, leaving the surface glossy enough to catch the overhead lamp's reflection. I clicked my heels together against the table with a crisp snap—completely polished and combat-ready.

