The Correct Dust Ratio Requires Effort

“What are you doing?”

Quinn looked up at Jarel’s voice from her position on the floor, on all fours, reaching beneath the couch cushions. She smiled innocently.

“I’m cleaning!”

It was night now. They’d cooked dinner together, “slothed” on the couch for a while, and were waiting for sleep to claim them.

Though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he was very much looking forward to that moment. There was a strong possibility she’d sleep on top of him again.

He was not prepared for how much he was anticipating that.

But she was acting strange.

“What are you cleaning?”

She beamed and held up something pinched carefully between her fingers.

“Dust!”

That explained why he couldn’t see it.

“Dust?”

“Yeah!” she said proudly. “Dust is important for laziness. It symbolizes that Sloth is present. But too much dust causes sickness, and sickness interrupts laziness. There’s a balance. It’s very precise.”

He blinked slowly.

“So… you’re manually selecting individual dust particles to maintain an optimal laziness-to-health ratio?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Yup!”

He rubbed his forehead.

“Are you feeling okay?”

She frowned.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re picking up dust. One grain at a time. That’s not productive… but it’s also not lazy.”

She blinked.

“Oh.”

He stared.

“That’s it? Just ‘oh’?”

She leaned back into a kneel, staring down at her thighs.

“I’m sorry.”

His tone softened immediately.

“No, no. You don’t need to apologize. I’m just confused.”

The way her eyes lit up told him he’d made a mistake.

“Hi, ‘just confused’, I’m Quinn!”

She giggled at his pained groan.

Then she tilted her head.

“Is there a faster way to do this?”

“A vacuum cleaner would help.”

“Vacuum cleaner?”

He began to stand.

He didn’t finish.

She appeared in front of him.

Not walked.

Not stepped.

Appeared.

He hadn’t seen her move.

She didn’t seem aware that she’d just broken physics.

She pointed sharply at the couch.

“Sit back down.”

He looked between where she’d been and where she was now, trying to process what had just happened.

And then-

She grew.

Or perhaps the room shrank.

In a blink, she loomed over him.

Red eyes ignited.

An aura unfurled - thick, oppressive, ancient. The air itself felt heavier, like it had weight.

Her voice remained soft.

Sweet.

But layered beneath it was something vast.

Something predatory.

“Sit. Back. Down.”

He was seated before he consciously decided to obey.

Back pressed to cushions.

Hands folded.

Eyes wide.

Like a dog awaiting judgement.

The aura vanished.

The pressure lifted.

In her place stood a short wolf-girl with a bright, cheerful smile.

“Thank you!” she said pleasantly. “Now, where’s the vacuum cleaner?”

He pointed with a slightly shaky hand toward a small cupboard near the entrance.

She marched over confidently.

He watched her begin rummaging and immediately realized she had absolutely no idea what a vacuum cleaner was - despite the fact that it was sitting right in the center, exactly where he remembered leaving it.

He let her search for a few seconds before calling out.

“It’s the big thing with a pole sticking out of it. Right in the middle.”

The rummaging stopped.

Then came a loud clatter as she yanked the entire machine free.

“I knew that!”

He chuckled under his breath as she stumbled out of the cupboard, the vacuum dangling awkwardly from one arm and swinging in every possible direction. It wasn’t that she lacked strength - the thing was just terribly balanced.

She set it down in front of him, then knelt beside it and stared expectantly.

He smiled.

“On the back there’s a power cable. Three silver prongs at the end. Pull it out until it stops.”

She located it quickly and tugged.

Unfortunately, the cable was stiff.

Instead of extending smoothly, the entire vacuum slid toward her. The upright pole, poorly secured in its narrow holster, came loose and toppled sideways, nearly smacking her in the face.

She flinched.

Then she figured it out - one hand braced the vacuum in place while the other pulled the cable free. This time it worked.

She looked back at him for further instruction.

He was still smiling.

“Now find a wall socket that fits the plug.”

He made sure to be specific. There was a non-zero chance she’d attempt to insert it into the ethernet port.

She located a proper outlet and plugged it in.

“Don’t forget to turn it on with the switch!” he added quickly.

She paused, corrected her mistake, then knelt beside the machine again like a student awaiting approval.

“Okay,” he continued. “When you turn it on, the end of the pole is what sucks things in. So you place that over whatever you want to clean.”

Her face slowly paled.

“A… anything?”

“Anything within reason,” he clarified.

She shivered.

“Okay…”

She stood, gripping the pole carefully - very carefully - holding the nozzle as far away from her body as possible.

He grinned.

“It’s not on yet. Press the button with the circle and the little dash through it.”

She found it.

Her fingers trembled as they approached.

Closer.

Closer.

Click.

The machine roared to life.

A low whirr became a rising whine, then a full mechanical howl as air rushed violently through the tube.

She jumped, nearly dropping the pole, knuckles turning white as she wrestled the “creature” under control.

She genuinely believed she was holding something dangerous.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

He raised his voice over the noise.

“She’s all yours! Good luck!”

He watched as she began her “cleaning.”

Most of the time the nozzle hovered several inches above the floor.

When it did briefly touch down, she jerked it back up immediately - as if it might latch onto the earth itself and drag everything into oblivion.

She would not have passed a single job interview for a cleaning position.

Then he realized something.

It was late.

Very late.

And the vacuum was loud.

Very loud.

He winced.

He hoped Sayang wouldn’t-

The front door burst open.