22:12pm. Home toilet

A translucent yellow paste, over-burdened with mucus and stringy, semi-digested root vegetables was plastered onto the porcelain. When it slowly slid into the water it rested atop the drink on a thin layer of grease and shone in the reflected sunlight.

I felt disappointed with it. I knew I had barely touched on the vast reserves of excrement still holed up inside, and yet a felt empty – I felt as if I had failed.