Eyes half shut faced the ceiling while
unkept hair smothered once firm, hardened pillows. 

"Another day of this shit," 
I heard him mutter. 
As he violently dragged on another cigarette. 

His fingers and teeth changed colour, 
along with my snow white curtain.
Him or them?
I need to decide which one to replace, I thought to myself as I opened the bedroom window. 

Fresh February air filled the stale room and cleansed my lungs.
I welcomed the breeze that rippled through the curtain as birds sang a message of gratitude from rooftops above. 

"It's fucking freezing, " he said as he banged the window closed. Acting as if he owned the place. A cigarette still dangling from his dehydrated mouth along with the rest of his gibberish.

I stretched my body and decided to keep the curtain.

Quick rinse, shorter spin and they will be refreshed as new. The flat pillows can go with the guy with the unkept hair and badly stained index fingers.