The kitchen was papered with olive green wallpaper that gently peeled and curled from the wall in sheets, showing cracks in the plaster. The man in the sparkly pajamas paced back and forth, eyes focused on the yellowed linoleum tile at his feet. A bowl of oatmeal sat steaming in the sink with the tap gushing cold water all over it. The man wondered when his Oxfords would hatch from their eggs at the deli. The woman behind the counter had said it would only be a few weeks.
He owned no laundry baskets. How does one wash sparkly pajamas?
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