Steve’s sitting on the loo trying to work out how many hours of his life he’s spent sitting on the loo. It’s not the first time. He struggles with the early years because he doesn’t know when he grew out of nappies (he’d ring his mum but her brain has changed; his sister was always odd). There are also the times of illness, mind fuddled with fever or booze. And the pees in the night when he’s too tired to stand, trying not to think about work. He sighs and tries again. Sighs and tries again. Some certainty would be nice.
Great story, Ash!
Steve: Piss or get off the pot! Really liked this one – loved the way the huge heart of Steve’s story was parenthetically buried in the middle of all that…stuff.
It reminds me of a moment in Martin Amis’s “The Information” where a character, fearing for his sanity, imagines a time in the near future when he’ll be on the loo, and he’ll see no good reason to stop wiping.
The toilet as inescapable chain to our darkest biological origins. Take Yahweh’s Dust-to-Dust and just add water.
Certainly a very poor block.
I feel your pain.