In the basement of a favorite building, the haunting atmospheric remains of past power-hungry ignorance mixed with tormenting cruelty boded ill will awaiting to attach to any hapless visitors of the restroom.
Acknowledging, yet doing her best to ignore them and avoid the farthest entrenched spacious cubicle with the alluring brighter lighting, she back-tracked and chose a stall closest to the door – even though it was more cramped and stifle-confining.
Then, as she tried to leave it, her arm reached for her scarf hung up on a hook, and then came quickly downward again – hard-smacking and bruising her elbow against an unusually positioned, solid steel feminine product receptacle.
“THAT’S your one – so now get your energies off of me!” she exclaimed, as she reasserted her boundaries and left the greedy forces to feed upon the pain she left behind her.
Candid Corvid Productions 