header.gif (4026 bytes)

Page 1 / 1

Bathroom Fantasy

(Word count 863)

When I locked the door, it became a completely isolated nation. I became the king, the emperor, the Prime Minister of this small territory decorated with reddish tiles. It was just me, the silence and the toilet bowl. The silence surpassed the deepest cave of the most barren desert on the most distanced planet of the most remote Galaxy. And the toilet bowl, on the other hand, became my most personal, most amiable and most trustful friend in the Universe. Honestly, how many friends in the world would you let them to touch that special part of your body? And how many friends in the world would accept your most hideous output so wholeheartedly?

When the amateurs regard the paintings of Picasso as junk, the professionals realize they are the masterpieces of the century. When the outsiders regard the smell of the bathroom as toxic gas, I realize it as the inspiriting aroma that induces the mind to explore. So I opened the newspaper and started to explore the news. It was like looking through the windows from heaven to hell.

Why are there so many wars? If we can sit peacefully in an infernally small bathroom, why can't we live peacefully in an eminently large world?

Why are there so many murders? If we can bare the smell of our own bathroom output, why can't we respect the life of others?

Why are there so many hungers? If we can share the bathroom, why can't we share the food?

Why are there so many homeless? If we can spend 30 minutes in the bathroom, why can't we spend 15 minutes to help the poor?

I thought, I pondered, I still couldn't understand.

So I dreamed, I dreamed like all the famous figures in history and time.

Sitting in the bathroom, Adolf Hitler dreamed about world domination.

Sitting in the bathroom, Mother Teresa dreamed about the utopia full of peace and love.

Sitting in the bathroom, I dreamed about my lottery ticket, which suddenly, accidentally slipped through my pocket and fell into the little lake in the center of the toilet bowl. I got a dilemma.

I thought, I pondered, I suddenly realized that money is not the most important thing in the world. For a person in the middle of a desert, a glass of water prices more than a pound of gold. For a person sitting in the bathroom, a piece of toilet paper prices more than a million dollar lottery ticket.

Hanging on the wall was the roll of most valuable toilet paper, slim out by weeks of dedicated service. But its whiteness is cleaner than the first snow in the Garden of Eden. Its tenderness is softer than the steam of a pot of hot tea. Its touch is more personal than the touch of a mother on a new born baby. My entire soul was encompassed by this particular sensation until the cries of "I need to use the bathroom now" and "my bladder is going to explode" began to enter my ears. I knew it was time to say goodbye.

By pulling the handle on the tank, I started the symphony of flushing water, like the Niagara fall, engulfed the sorrow, expelled the pain and disenchanted the loneness. For a moment, it roared like the lion king, breathed like the fire dragon, thundered like the anger of God. And it died.

Again it was just me, the silence and the toilet bowl. I opened the door, a new me walked into a new world.

Please fill out the comment form below and then go home.

Goto Page [1 ] Page 1 / 1   
Your comment about this story:
What do you think?
As a , I think it's
How interesting?
Neutral Excited!
Grammar/Spelling? Poooor Neutral Good
Compare with stories on magazines? Far worst! Same Better
Name & Email (Optional)?
Any Comment?

Thanks for spending time to read my story!

footer.gif (2737 bytes)
For comments: please email