Jack stood in the dimly lit cottage, surrounded by the remnants of his meal. His stomach was finally full, but now there was the small matter of cleaning up. He glanced around the room, looking for a solution. The cottage was small, and it was bitterly cold outside. No way was he stepping out into that snow to fetch water—if he could even find a source of liquid water that wasn't frozen solid.
His eyes landed on the hearth, where embers still crackled faintly. The fire hadn't gone out completely, but the heat was only enough to keep the room from freezing. He took a deep breath, realizing that washing dishes here wouldn't be like it was back home.
"Alright," he muttered to himself, "let's make do with what we have."
First, he grabbed a handful of snow from the corner of the room, where a small pile had accumulated. The door was cracked open slightly, allowing a few drifts to blow in. He packed the snow into a rough pile, its coldness biting at his hands as he worked. He set it on the wooden table and looked at his soiled dishes, wondering how exactly this would work.
Jack wasn't about to just wipe them down with the snow—he needed more than that. He'd read somewhere that people in cold climates often used snow to clean themselves, using its abrasiveness to scrub away dirt. He had no idea how effective it would be on plates and utensils, but it was worth trying.
He scooped a bit of snow up with his hands and rubbed it across the surface of a plate. The snow didn't melt immediately, so he was able to use it to scrub off the leftover food. As he did, the snow absorbed the grease and remnants of his meal, turning a pale shade of brown. He scraped it off, then repeated the process, using fresh snow to remove the rest of the mess.
To his surprise, it worked. The snow didn't leave the dishes sparkling clean, but it removed the worst of the grime. He used a cloth to wipe down the plate, but it still wasn't quite spotless.
Jack then glanced over to the hearth and reached for a handful of ashes from the fire. He knew ash was abrasive and had been used for cleaning in the past. He sprinkled it on the plate, rubbing it in with his cloth. The combination of snow and ash scrubbed the plate to a decent level of cleanliness. The dish wasn't perfect, but it was usable again.
For the pots and pans, Jack repeated the process—first scraping off food with snow, then using a bit of ash to clean the tougher spots. It was tedious work, but it was effective.
"Who knew cleaning could be this primitive?" Jack muttered under his breath. He would've given anything for a sink with hot water, but for now, this would have to do. When he finished, he set the dishes aside to dry. The cold air would do that quickly enough.
Looking at his handiwork, Jack sighed. It wasn't the most efficient or convenient way to wash dishes, but it was something. And, considering the situation, it was enough. At least he wouldn't be eating off dirty plates.
"Guess that's another skill I've picked up," he said to himself, standing back and admiring the makeshift cleaning process. "Ashes, snow, and a little ingenuity. Survival at its finest."
"Good job, me. Now a treat," he muttered. "Maybe I can summon a piece of chocolate directly into my hands."
he opened his hand, and there it was—perfectly formed, just like he'd imagined. It was a KitKat, the familiar crisp layers covered in smooth chocolate, but without the packaging. It was as if it had materialized out of thin air, with no trace of the wrapper.
He took a bite, savoring the crunchy texture of the wafer beneath the chocolate coating. The taste was familiar and comforting.
"I guess it really does work," he said, speaking between bites. "KitKat, no wrapper. Perfect."
" I don't always have to deal with the utensils and the packaging. convenient."Jack said with a chuckle, wiping a bit of chocolate from his fingers.
As he leaned back, feeling both satisfied and a bit amused by how easily everything was falling into place, he couldn't help but think about the potential this power had.