A bit late, I know, but it’s still Sunday (at least hereabout), the second installment of Bathrrom, on Sunday Story. (The story so far.)
As I was saying, then it hit me: this wasn’t my bathroom.
It looked like it enough – the layout seemed the same. The shower stall sure was just as small. To get a better idea of my surroundings, I decided to change perspective: so got up on the toilet seat and looked around.
There were differences, but I could not quite be totally sure. What if I used the bathtub’s ledge as a vantage point, it was slightly higher. (Yes, I admit it, I’ve got both a shower and a bathtub; don’t like mixing the two.)
This was definitely someone else’s bathroom. Too many things were different in unmistakable ways. For example, the sink wasn’t even the right size or shape. Then I started thinking: am I even in my own home? I looked outside.
Seemed like the right backyard – then again, it had seemed like the same bathroom, at first. I couldn’t have fallen asleep at home and woken up somewhere else. None of my friends were weird enough to pulled that kind of a prank. Doubt started creeping its way into my mind. Was I really in the wrong bathroom, or was it simply that I wasn’t who I thought I was. I had to check in the mirror to make sure.
Yes; me alright. So what was going on? I hadn’t had anything to drink last night. Not on a Monday. There was no one around I could ask – which, in a way, was a good thing. I mean, I would have hated waking up with some stranger. The only way I could get any inkling of how I could have ended up here, was to ask the candies.
To be continued (here).
