Zooey dusted off her skirt as Fritz opted to empty the coffee pot in the hallway where they hung their coats and sometimes the organic vegetables.

“Zooey,” Fritz called, “do we have any clean coffee mugs?”

Zooey looked around the organized clutter. There were possibly hundreds of used coffee mugs everywhere, in every shape and colour imaginable. The majority of them were half full of coffee from possibly months ago, some were full of pencils or toxic water used for watercolour painting.

“Not one,” she said disdainfully.

“Did you check the bedrooms? Or the closet? I keep some under the bathroom sink, you know.”

“Face it Fritz, they’re all dirty, its hopeless…let’s just buy some clean ones on our walk.”

“Good idea,” Fritz said hopefully, and continued to drink the coffee straight from the pot.

They grabbed their bags from the hooks next to the door in silence and Zooey followed Fritz out into the dimly lit landing.