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I went to the corner of the room where my toilet bucket had been, for no reason other than habit. From the start, I had designated one of the walls perpendicular to the door as my sleeping space, and even though the size of the room did not allow for distinct areas, I considered the far corner as my toilet. Ingrained concepts of decency were hard to break. Logically, in such a small room, it didn’t matter where I went to the bathroom. In my addled brain at that time, it only seemed right that I pooped as far from my bed as I could. The fact that my bed could have been any section of floor in the room was irrelevant. I leaned my back into the corner and slid myself down until I was doing a wall sit. I didn’t cry or clench my fists in anger. I did my business in a detached haze, then returne
- Writer
