She thought of how dirty things had become.
She cleaned the metallic sink until the beige powder erased her blood red nailpolish on her tired hand. The bleach probably wasn't good for her red blood either.
But who needs to wear a happy rubber-duck-yellow glove for protection when you lose all of your care-for-the-world anyway?
She cursed and was angry at the lack of shine her kitchen sink had.
It mocked her obsession with cleanliness.
So she took to scrubbing it after a long day at the office.
She thought of how dirty things had become.
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