Paul was tired. No, exhausted. All he wanted to do was to hit the bed upon arriving home but the yellow vomit stain hindered him from doing so. Irritated, he took of his trousers, removed his shirt, and wore new clothes.
He entered the washroom with his trousers in hand and headed to the sink.
"Why did I have to sit next to him?" Paul thought to himself as he placed the trousers under the running water from the faucet.
Paul scrubbed his trousers and saw that the yellow stain was beginning to disappear. The stain was almost gone. Just a small faded round mark remained.
"Atleast, the smell is gone." He said as he let out a big yawn. He hung his trousers on a hook placed on the washroom door.
Paul lay down on his bed which was just a few steps from the washroom door. It did not take long before he started snoring under his blanket.
Paul could feel something cold touching his toes. He ignored it. He probably was just imagining it. The feeling was gone and he went bac