At work you received feedback that your performance had slipped significantly and you had smiled in despair – “well, you don’t have a spot at home, you don’t know how that is, you can’t compare my hardship to your happy lives” you murmured on the way back to your desk.
Your sister now worried more than ever about you, said you were withdrawing and made no effort to be part of your circle of friends. She had arranged for therapy for you and that she thought it was more about your mind than about the spot in your living room. The therapist was clearly not your friend. He sounded as being briefed by your sister. If “better coping” with your spot and “spot management” could become your common agenda he would ask. Moron!
And then the day came – a cold November morning. Noon to be precise. Since you had no job anymore, there was no reason not to get drunk on a Friday night. at home. alone – dancing angrily around the spot in you living room – yaha, peeing on it at 4am! exhausted and helpless.
This Saturday afternoon you stumbled into the kitchen with a hangover. Your head not nearly fitting through the doorframe. Still, even then -the moment your mind started working, your eyes drifted over to the carpet in the living room for a moment. Then the sudden shock. What? Frozen in disbelief. your eyes moving slowly back to the carpet.
The spot was gone. Nonononono. nooo! nooo? that can’t be! Your feet were faster than your mind. Within an instant you found yourself on the floor in your living room. You did swoop onto the carpet like a sleuth. Trying to get hold of anything. All you could see was plain beige carpet everywhere. Well, you had to sneeze heavily at some point – it was dusty down there – since you could not afford the cleaning lady anymore.
Sitting on the floor of your living room like Luis Suarez after his biting in the match against Italy, you tried to understand.
Maybe you needed help.


You decided not tell your colleague about the spot and to enjoy lunch instead and not let an ominous spot ruin your lunch. After all, you had much more important things to share and talk about. Only that you did not notice her mood changing while she was talking to you – there but not present.
The weeks went by and you had researched online for hours on “sudden spots and how to remove them”; “house cleaning and spot removal for dummies”; “Spotting Image – Online Platform and Community for self help approaches”; and so on!
You also had undertaken many attempts to practically get the spot out – washing, bleaching, rubbing, hydro-bathing, bio-energetic feedback removal, activated carbon treatment, spot dynamic analysis, swearing and pounding. You even brought a photo of the spot to one of the guys under the bridge in Causeway Bay to get it slapped with a shoe for twenty minutes.
Nothing. There was no change. At least not for the better. Most notably not regarding the spot. Friends and Family had mentioned that you came along less often and asked you if there was something wrong. But you were preoccupied with THE SPOT. Little did they know about spots in general and living room spots in particular. Moronic amateurs all of them. Leaving you alone to live there ‘oh so happy’ spotless lives.
Only once had you mentioned your spot. It was at the house warming party of your sister. Your ex was there. One reason to have a few too many beers. You two eventually got to talk and after a while you felt confident enough – she still had this great understanding of yours. Feelings and stuff. She knew you had a rough ride since she had left. Anyway. So you mentioned the spot. And all she said was: “Well, if you cant get rid of it AND you don’t even know why it’s there, then maybe you just have to live with it.” yeah right. as if that would be an option. what are you, stupid or what?


You woke up that morning and went into the kitchen to drink some water. On the way there you noticed a spot in the carpet in your living room. A large dark spot – you remember it to be at least 10cm in diameter – close to the main entrance in the middle in front of the door. On the beige carpet.
Immediately your heart was pumping and adrenaline was released into you bloodstream – though one minute ago you were sleepy and your mind blurry and occupied with calculations of how much longer you could sleep and if going back to bed made you a horrible selfish person.
Now you were already kneeling on the carpet to examine the spot. What was that and where did it come from? Clueless by the sight of it, you bend forwards to sniff at it as if you were preparing the cobra position of your yoga sun salutation routine. No smell, no identifiable texture or colour. Hence, no lead to answer the question that now was burning your mind: Why was there a spot on the carpet in your living room?
You had to prepare and leave for work, but did that absentmindedly. On your commute all you could think of, was the same question – only slowly transforming in tone towards more hysterical and – yeah – panicky: “Why the … was there a spot?”, What the heck – must there be a spot right in front of the main entrance?, …
Meanwhile arrived at work sitting at your desk: “This little piece of work … you evil thing of a spot …” were you now thinking.
At lunch time you were torn between going back home to check if it was still there and maybe to examine it further or to go for lunch with your usual lunch date – a co-worker of yours. You decided to go with her for lunch and let the spot be spot for now. Actually, you wanted to hear her opinion – on the spot. Maybe she had had a similar experience or knew someone who had had a sudden spot on the carpet – surely you were not an exception. Or were you?
Suddenly you became wary of sharing your spot experience. What if she had never had a spot on her carpet? So much the worse, an unexplainable spot. on the carpet, right in front of the main entrance of your place. huge in diameter.