It had gotten out of hand. The trash.
I eyed the pile doubtfully, wondering how my roommate had even managed to live in such conditions. I mean, I had barely walked in the door and I could smell the trash from across the room. It's overflowing, slimy, rotting, tissue covered mess totally competing for the title of 'most disgusting thing I'd ever seen."
I exhaled through my mouth, cautious to not breath in through my nose so that I wouldn't trigger my gag reflex further.
I set my bag on the floor, and approached the trash like it was a wild animal, , reaching in the cabinet nearby to grab a couple extra bags.
"Okay." I whispered to myself, trying to not breath. "I got this."
It made sense that after being sick for a couple of weeks my roommate wouldn't have had the energy to do much. But conquering that trash mountain?
It took three bags, ten minutes outside halfway through to get the rotting scent out of my nostrils, and a half can of febreeze before I deemed the trash scent satisfactorily gone.
"Next time roomie." I muttered grabbing my luggage. "You get it."
-Inspiration from taking out the trash -exaggerated
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