would you believe me if i told you, that i don't remember the colour of my toothbrush, that just a moment ago i stared at the three toothbrushes in their walker-ish holes, wondering for a long time which was mine. And then i remembered the motion i practised in my subconscious every morning and night, remembered the position my hand stretched out to to retrieve my toothbrush. And picked the one nearest the mirror.

I took it and stared at it, its frayed bristles looking in all directions, as if avoiding my gaze.

'since when were you green?' i thought to it, then plopped toothpaste on and stuck the wretched thing into my mouth.