He was the embodiment of the word “meticulous” and had been that way since he’d evacuated the womb, it not being up to his standard of cleanliness. His early days evaporated amidst tears of disgust about soiled linen, clip-on ties and the general lack of proper hygiene of the woman who forced him to suckle her. Thankfully things improved with time so that she became someone he learned to tolerate and finally adore.
She’d won him over so that he forgot her former sloppiness by teaching him the remedies for every kind of manmade stain. Mother was everything to him and he was her precious boy. Even after the departure of days spent enduring childhood taunts, collegiate stares and corporate whisperings, she had been his queen, and he had taken care of her until the day when all of her sentimental aspects had disappeared into dust.
Walking home had lost some of its purpose after that. Even so, there was always something to distract him, some odd thing out of place, some homeless person to scowl at or kick, though touching them made him feel unclean and full of self-disgust.
He cast stares made of stones, which he hurled with equal disdain at unfashionable patrons in corner cafes and fine dining establishments where he sought refuge from the unsightliness of city streets. But there was no escape because ugliness followed him like a shadow. Now he’d engineered a way to combat it and would work out his schemes until the world surrendered to his will. Someday, he surmised, people would rally to him and willingly stay by his side until he’d purified them with fire.
*************
He scanned the room surveying every imperfection and seething at each newfound discovery. A piece of lint glared up at him from an Oriental rug, but he did not attempt to retrieve it knowing that others watched his every move. He would focus on other things for now, like the jellyfish at the city aquarium that always transfixed him in their clean watery world. These floated by even as the lint on the rug haunted him. He closed his eyes as multitudes of them cascaded before him until the scent of ancient perfume summoned him back from the depths to the now.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“That pie I had yesterday was quite delicious. It almost tasted homemade. Just like my momma used to make…”
“Fine, you want pie. Any particular flavor or do you want me to surprise you?”
“Whatever you suggest. I trust you completely.”
A lady at another booth peered at him over her menu as he adjusted one of his cufflinks. He looked out the window of the restaurant watching the jellyfish and other sea life fill up the view. Ugliness disappeared into luminescence until nothing remained to remind him of unclean places or people except the sound of crying that reverberated into silence from high flying fish and sea creatures, leaving nothing for cadaver dogs to find.
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