Day Eight: Public P. Place

Go to a public location and make a detailed report of what you see. Write the post without adverbs.


One step. That was all it took.

A tsunami of foul-smelling fumes engulfed my face, forcing their way into my poor nostrils. To think I’ve even braced myself for it before stepping in. These crappy lungs of mine, they can’t even stay still for ten seconds. Maybe next time I’d be wiser as to start the breath-holding a few feet closer to the washroom.

Lining up against the off-white tiled walls were two women and a girl. Ok, make that three full-bladdered females and a queue. Oh no, now I’ve got to put up with the fumes from hell for even longer. Hang in there, alveoli darlings!

What caught my eye next, was the horrible floor – grey tiles with wet, blackish footprints stamped all over it. I ninja-ed my way over to the line and propped myself behind the third lady, all the while careful not to make contact with any of the wet patches as if they were lava freshly spewed from a volcano. In an attempt to distract myself from the urgent calls of nature (ha!) before my turn was up, I resorted to examining the toilet. And the people in it.

First in queue stood a lady in a black dress and strappy heels. Combing through her mahogany locks, her gaze had been transfixed on her alternate which stood in the water-stained mirror across the wall. I was thus taken aback when the pair of brown eyes met with my twin’s in the looking-glass. Like a peeping tom caught red-handed, I immediately averted my gaze. Ooops.

After what seemed like a gazillion light-years, I finally entered the cubicle furthest from the entrance. Once again, ninja skillz for the win.

“Oh god.”

Behind the light grey acrylic walls, I was greeted with the most unwelcoming toilet bowl ever. That, together with another whiff of the pungent methane-ammonia-urea concoction of doom. Ugh. How some girls pee is beyond me. The only possible explanation I can come up with, is that they have three urethras.

This is one of those days I wish I were a dude.


Twist partially ignored because I’m not too sure what adverbs are!

I’ve also been reading more assignments than writing because working every day is vacuuming my soul away. So excited to start Day Ten’s assignment! But the self-diagnosed OCD freak in me has forbidden any skips in assignments.

“It just wouldn’t look nice on the blog if I were to skip a day, or *gasps* posting ten before nine!”


  1. This is amazing. Now I remember why you’re one of my favorites. The description here (well, and the stench) just blows me away. I’m not just there with you, I AM you, suffering through that nasty bathroom till I can scamper out into the fresh air.


    Liked by 1 person

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