He’s overfilled the kitchen sink with suds again and is elbow deep in bubbles, fishing for the last teaspoon he knows is in there. Scoops it out, puts in the cutlery rack then reaches for the plastics on the bench. The first one is pockmarked on the inside and stained by leftover spaghetti bolognese nuked in the work microwave. He knows the stain will never be removed. It’s part of the container now. Still, he scrubs at it, if only to remove the grease. Tipping out the dishwater he gives it the once over, thinks the stain is a shade or two lighter and puts it on the rack. Yes, dear reader, there is a metaphor in this scenario. I’ll let you work it out.
A Fullness in Brevity - Adam Byatt 