and he would embrace all the bottles and struggle to open his door and walk across the vulnerable corridor that always took him to the kitchen and leave the bottles where he had found them and although he would always remember the exact initial position of each bottle relative to the others and which way each of their labels had faced and even how they had tilted he always made minor intentional mistakes and arranged them too carefully too rationally and too efficiently and always thought a kindred mind would have noticed and become suspicious but the scurrilous residents of his storey were too closed to the world of the milk bottles and never cared and could barely recognize which bottle was theirs when they drank cold milk in the morning .