She frowned, pulling the pan out from the cupboard, examining it with squinted eyes.
"They're clean" I called out from my position at the kitchen table, as I worked on my paper.
She sniffed, pulling the pan closer up to her face, and scratching at the surface with one long fingernail before she set the pan back down in the cupboard with a faint clang. "I think I'll just grab one of my own from downstairs thanks." She stiffly told me, as she left the kitchen, disappearing around the corner.
I glanced up from my work with a frown, glancing to where my pots and pans were. "And just what's wrong with my dishes?" I muttered. They were clean weren't they? A little old, but they were still useable.
-Inspiration from roommates
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