I feel a jarring, almost painful, disconnect. Here I am, sitting in the gross, disgusting bathroom of an old age home, listening to the slight hum of the ventilation, and the occasional sounds of an old man moving around. The old man is a stranger, an invisible presence that I only know exists based on sound. I know he is a man based on the fact that we are in the men’s bathroom, and the fact that his breathing is deep and loud. There! He shuffled around a bit and inhaled sharply. He is not within a stall, no one has entered a stall since I got here. He is next to the sinks looking at the mirrors. I cannot see him, and yet I know that to be true. The white lights within this bathroom are blinding, and I feel a tad nauseous while writing this. When will the man leave? My nerves are burning, I feel my adrenaline spike. I came here for solitude, why is he still here?! Go, go, leave, leave! Please, please, it is painful, I am short of breath! You are making me so nervous, please leave. Abruptly, I hear the door to the bathroom click shut. Ah, how the guilt scratches at me! Why did you go, stranger, why did you leave me alone! I need your company, otherwise I will turn insane! Open the door, open the door! My throat, my throat! I-I cannot catch a breath! Ah, ah, I am gasping, please! Return here and save me old man, I am dying! My lungs are shriveling up and the smell of the bathroom is dying along with me! Please! Please! Pleeeassdbds…

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