obsessive compulsive disorder - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Kayla looked at the keyboard, it was black with white letters. She pondered how many fingers had touched it and the possibilities of where those fingers have been. She didn't want to look like a freak but she was already plunging her right hand into her pocket for a packet of disinfectant wipes. No-one had to see, not if she was fast.
The house had been cleaned in a hurry, that much was easy to tell without even stepping inside. While the floor was vacuumed and the shelves tidied, no-one had given a thought to the banister. I suspect it was once bare pine, simply varnished in clear lacquer like many of the local houses, but some bright spark had spray painted it white some time ago. From the nobble at the base to the rail that ran up the stairway was a dark grey scum from months of use without being wiped. I know that some wouldn't mind but I just can't abide dirt of any kind. Stepping in was obligatory, touching the banister was not.
She sits, thin mouthed, before the clothes horse. The clothes that lie over wooden struts are lined with perfect precision. Even the angles of the trifold zig-zag are identical. There is not a thing out of place anywhere in this perfectly miserable room. "Every job must be done right!" How could I ever forget? Already I feel a constriction around my heart and the stale air is suffocating.