Abandoned rose. Marion Bay, Tasmania. March 2013.
It's Theme Thursday and my apologies for the story. It's a true story, but not a pretty one. If you're faint hearted, simply admire the picture and move way now.
You have been warned.
Don't worry, we'll get to the theme. Be patient and bear with me.
There are two toilets in the complex where I work. One is always locked and only people who work in the complex have the key, the other is unlocked 90% of the time, but lockable. I prefer to use the locked one.
On Monday morning I was ready to burst after walking in from the town and immediately went to the unlocked one, as it was closer.
There is also a separate vestibule with sinks, mirrors prior to entering the business end of the equation. I sensed an evil presence as soon as I walked into the place.
Now, in this toilet area there are three seated toilets and three urinals.
In the seated one on the left, the cubicle was covered in urine and there was a generous helping of runny faeces all over everything.
'Nice', I thought to myself.
In the seated one on the right, the cubical didn't seem to have any urine in it, but there was an unholy level of [again] runny faeces all over the seat, cistern and floor.
Someone appears to have gone to some effort. Perhaps they'd saved something special for the third.
In the central cubicle, the faeces was still runny, but it featured a more generous smattering of chunks than the two either side of it. It seemed to be confined to the bowl and seat, but - tellingly - there was a (hastily) ripped open three pack of Bonds underpants on the floor and two faeces-filled pants on either side of the bowl.
I suspect that this has been done over a couple of visits.
Now, the twist on this come with the urinals. The urinal on the right was blocked with cigarette butts and filled to overflowing with urine.
The urinal in the middle was also blocked. By vomit. Thick vomit mixed with urine.
The other urinal seemed to work.
Life is beautiful.