I see clothes strewn across the bed, I groan inwardly and roll my eyes. I tell myself it’s not my room and to just forget about it. Someone was indecisive about what to wear and left in a hurry; no big deal.
As I turn to leave I recognise some of the items. Finding some of my own clothes, creased and discarded amongst the pile I puff up, inflated with self-righteousness and possessiveness. I snatch them up and whisk them into my own room. I throw them onto the bed (ignoring the irony) and stomp downstairs muttering about disrespect and untidiness.
