And that was it.

She was scrubbing. But there was an annoying spot that just wouldn’t go. She gritted her teeth and rubbed with all her might. It maliciously grinned at her. Tired but determined, she used everything that promises to clean all kinds of spots. Except they seemed to have no effect on this particular one. Disturbed, she gave it one last vehement abrade. Stupid thing. Frustrated and dejected, she sat back to catch her breath. Glaring at it, she muttered insults. But stopped halfway. Wide-eyed, she realized that it wasn’t a spot. Just an imperfection, the kind that happens sometimes, while they are manufactured. She hadn’t been able to realize this, for this was so uncharacteristic an imperfection for it. She chided herself for allowing herself to be so shortsighted. It smiled innocently. Repentance, lament. But the damage was done. She had rubbed it too hard.