Zero to Clean in Ten Minutes or Less
Erin M. Kinch

Supersonic. That's what they call him. He can beat a train or an Italian sports car in a footrace and run across water. That used to impress her.

Liz sits on the floral couch, legs curled up, her heart-shaped face resembling a child's as she ponders the images in the catalog. Five years ago, he would have rhapsodized about her innocence, her beauty. Today, he thinks about the dirt her shoes left on the cushions.

"Ted," she calls.

He stills his vibrating atoms down to a human level; the blur becomes a tall, slender man. He doesn't have the pecs of Mr. Fabulous, but his legs are hard as rock. "Yeah?"

"Don't forget the guest room. My mother will be here tomorrow." She moistens her index finger with the tip of her dainty pink tongue and flips the page.

Ted streaks into the guest room and runs a rag over the mahogany furniture, marveling at the path the rag leaves in the dust. In less than thirty seconds, the room is clean from top to bottom, mahogany gleaming, the scent of lemon in the air; every stroke, every polish burned in his memory.

An instant later, he's in the kitchen; before the water has a chance to heat up, the dishes sparkle on the dish rack. But old food is stuck under his fingernails and his hands smell of mildew.

He drops into his recliner with a sigh. Just because the whole house took under ten minutes, that didn't mean he wasn't tired. It didn't mean that the work magically got done. It meant that he did it all by himself.

During their courtship, he would surprise Liz with steaming takeout and an instant picnic, mugs of beer straight off the tap, flowers fresh from the bush, or anything else her heart desired. Then she would cry out in delight and give him a reward that he didn't want to speed through.

Liz continues to peruse the latest styles. Ted contemplates chasing down some muggers or international hit men. Then he wonders if there's anything good on TV.

"Ted?"

He glances at his wife, expecting a smile, a thank you, something for a job well done.

Without looking up from the catalog, Liz says, "I'm in the mood for Chinese."