Some days are strange. I'll pause at odd moments, moments I wouldn't pause at on a normal day. Just to make sure I'm not dreaming. Or because I notice something that I've taken for granted all my life. "All my life", as if it's some great amount of time. It's the only time I've experienced. How could I have let so many moments pass without enjoying them? How come I have never before noticed how graceful a swirling piece of toilet paper -that wasn't successfully flushed- can dance around in the shallow water of a clean, white toilet bowl. Waving me in. Telling me to join it on it's journey. "You've never lived until you've been flushed! Come with me and I promise you, you'll never have to suffer again. Once you carry out the honorable duty of wiping up human waste, you will be greeted by all the other flushed paper fragments in a grand ballroom!"
The rest of the roll doesn't know exactly how difficult their lives will be, but they will fulfill their responsibility. Then they will be flushed.
I didn't have the heart to tell it that it's actually going to quickly decompose in a pool of sludge. That its angelic, wispy robe would be added to all the other muck - and that it might as well quit with the dancing.
I succeeded on the second flush, finicky toilet.
I had to flush it, I'm not saving all the bits of toilet paper I will ever use.
