Tyler plunked down on the couch
Covered in an awful, green fabric

Two beige pillows reminded him
Of a day-old, unwashed coffee mug
Sitting in the sink

Once bone white,
It now had a khaki-coloured stain
Like the one on his teeth
After gulping down
His morning’s fill

Fiddling, fumbling
With three loose threads
On the corner of the armrest,

He had the strangest desire
To tug at each of them
In an attempt to pull away
All of the green

Instead,
He continued to
Wind and braid and twist

Because:
Life is better with dishes to wash
And threads to pull