Fiction: The Cleaner

The Cleaner always took her time but every corner, nook, unreachable space, were cleaned to the point where dust never knew its own existence.
    Mrs. Spotter, a former housewife, decided on using the Cleaner on the whim of her neighbor's words. Whatever Mrs. Spotter did, she did it thoroughly without leaving anything undone and that included cleaning her house. Now that her husband had left her, she barely mustered the will to dust it.
    On a cloudy Saturday morning, the Cleaner arrived at 8 am. Mrs. Spotter did some light cleaning on her two-story house as she didn't like people seeing how messy she was. The Cleaner, an unremarkable woman of medium height, stepped out of her black van with her attaché case.
    Mrs. Spotter, dressed and ready to leave, was standing on her front porch. Her eyes and mouth widened for a brief moment but she marshalled them into a dull expression. The Cleaner handed Mrs. Spotter the contract. Mrs. Spotter read it, signed it and handed over the envelope with the cash. Before Mrs. Spotter started to speak, the Cleaner held up a hand. "No, you cannot stay and yes, you must stay away for twenty-eight hours exactly," said the Cleaner with an even, soft voice. As she drove away, Mrs. Spotter had a weary look on her face.
    The Cleaner, named Molly, closed the front door and locked it. She had seen that look on Mrs. Spotter's face before and knew she had the usual thought: How could one person clean an entire apartment or a house by herself? No clients had ever seen how she worked and she was not going to change that policy.
    Molly set her case on the coffee table and pulled all the curtains closed. She pondered what she might do when she stopped being the Cleaner. Perhaps take a vacation. She opened the case, picked up the black box and lifted the lid. In a few seconds, the black hole began its job of sucking up all the dust, dirt, grim in the livingroom while leaving everything untouched.
    When Molly first encountered the black hole, which she had nicknamed Fred, she was a mere scientist hoping to create the galaxy's first reusable energy but then Fred appeared in one of her incubators and she knew she had failed. But failure didn't stop the institute from closing down the place. Instead, they wanted her to alter Fred into a weapon but she refused and fled with Fred to earth.
    Back then, Fred was smaller, just a fist-sized hollow but now it was almost twice the size of a baseball. Molly had to store it inside a black box as it could not survive in daylight. In the past nine years, she had only exchanged the box for a larger version twice as Fred grew in small increments.
    From the livingroom, Molly took the box from room to room and let Fred do its job. She smiled as she closed the box, put it in the case and locked the case. Fred was her creation and it was a comfort to her she didn't make a weapon. In two years time, when she had completed her ship, she will set Fred free into the galaxy and let it roamed freely. For now, it was a useful tool to make a living. With two hours to spare, she sat down on the sofa and continued reading her book.

I used the first half of the prompts from Words for Wednesday provided by Elephant's Child over here. This week's prompts are: wife, comfort, time, book, doors and/or certificate, appreciation, elephant, olive, major.