He directed the iron across the shirt with careful precision. He took a great pride in the shirts he ironed. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but everyone appreciated a shirt with crisp, clean lines, sometimes starched. He finished the shirt and folded it with the same precision he had used to move the iron over the garment. Once that was complete he moved onto the next shirt.
There was no wasted movement in his process. Pride in his work and years of practice allowed him to iron with the precision of a machine and the care of a master craftsman.
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