Couldn't swallow again.
The bowl was almost empty, the sides scraped clean as he spooned up the final bite. I feel tears suppressed behind my eyes, like the stretch just before a waterfall.
"Bathroom." I said. Although I'm not sure if he heard me. The floor was very polished, planks of a deep brown wood nailed together in a tight field of oblongs.
My knees knocked together and I fell against the bathroom door, swinging it wide open towards the toilet bowl. I clutched the sides, the curved edge pressing against my palm. It was a horrid smell. Acid and the leftovers of a boring dinner.
Maybe it wasn't the most hygienic, having my forehead pressed against the garbage dump for human waste, now slick with sweat. Definitely getting pimples.
Doesn't matter anyway. There won't be people to judge me after this.
YOU ARE READING
Into Aurora
Short StoryEven in the most seemingly perfect society, it was a society filled with flaws greater than we could possibly mask.
