“Oh Shit!“

“What?”

“I just…”

“What is it?”

“No, I just…
“Wait. Is that…Is that…
“Is that mold?”

“Where?”

“Growing. In the…”

“*AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

That was the last time I saw Thomas.

In retrospect the ardor with which I nagged him about cleaning up the fridge seems somewhat ironic. I always told him his chores would just catch up with him someday.