this morning #1272.

this morning, i wiped the toilet seat down. went through a whole stack of paper towels in the process. broke out the hand sanitizer, hoping to extinguish some of the disease. jeez. from the looks of the rest of the restroom, i’d have been a fool not to. had she ever cleaned this room? not in years. that much was clear. i could hear her shuffling around in the other room. opening & closing cabinets, searching for something. something to poison me with, no doubt. how’d i get wrapped up in this shit? how am i going to get out of this? wait. why is there no window in this bathroom? great. i’m definitely in some sort of murder house. with a sigh, i lowered my pants. sat down on the toilet for my likely final pee.