From I've Been Meaning to Tell You: A Letter to My Daughter, by David Chariandy
"We woke to the stench of margarine burning in a pan, and one roommate jumped up to turn off the stove, another to open a window. Our dinner was ruined, our precious kitchen heat quickly disappearing, but my roommate with the shy-gentle eyes was laughing all the same. What was so funny? 'We made it here,' he explained."
From page 61