nothing would ever be the same afterwards.
Chapter 8
The bathroom was small but contained all of the modern amenities a person needed: a sink to the left, toilet to the right, shower with the curtain drawn closed dead ahead. The walls were all bare and painted a soothing robin’s-egg blue. Since the bathroom was tucked inside the house, there were no windows. The only light was provided by several small indoor floods set into the ceiling.
Jamie quickly moved to the toilet, unzipped his pants and pulled out his little friend. He sighed as a stream of urine hit the water in the bowl, creating a low, tinkling sound.
He was still going strong fifteen second later when the temperature in the small bathroom plummeted.
It was as if someone threw open a door to Siberia, allowing a bitter arctic wind to blow in and envelop him in a frigid hug. Jamie instinctively wrapped his arms tightly around himself, not wondering why the temperature had dropped but instead simply reacting to the change. His arms proved little defense against the sudden cold, though, which battered and buffeted him and sent his teeth to violent chattering. Before he had a chance to consider the bizarre situation, a buzzing began in his ears, the low, steady drone of dozens of bees hovering around his head. The buzzing was quickly followed by a sudden, throbbing pulse inside his skull.
Jamie had never had a migraine in his life, but as he stood there in front of the toilet, his cock hanging out of his pants, piss spraying carelessly over the rim of the bowl and onto the tiled floor, he knew that he was now experiencing one. His equilibrium was shot, his senses overwhelmed, and he quickly placed both hands against the wall in front of him to steady himself. He tried to keep his eyes open, tried to concentrate on a black dot on the wall, a smudge of dirt, but his vision wavered, his eyes teared, and vertigo threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes tightly against the outside world and watched as colors exploded like Fourth of July fireworks against the backdrop of his eyelids. He tried to push everything away, tried to ignore the cold around him, the heavy buzzing in his ears, the growing queasiness in his gut, the pounding in his skull that threatened to burst his brain.
I’m going to die, Jamie thought as he rested his head against the wall for added support. He clenched his eyelids even harder . Someone’s going to come in and find me dead on the fucking ground in a pool of my piss. The idea of someone stumbling into the tiny bathroom looking for some relief only to discover him dead with his dick hanging out would have made him laugh if he wasn’t in so much agony. Instead, he clenched his teeth together and strained his lips apart as tears rolled from the corners of his eyes.
Jamie felt his legs begin to wobble beneath him. Can’t fall , he thought. Hit my head. Have to ease myself down. He was about to remove his left hand from the wall and place it on the rim of the toilet when everything stopped suddenly. The temperature returned to normal, the buzzing ended, the throbbing abated. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times to readjust to the light. He left his hands and forehead against the wall for several moments, allowing the queasiness and the dizziness to subside. Finally feeling stable, he straightened. He breathed in deeply, happy to be alive but concerned about what had just happened. He looked down at the toilet and the floor, at the beads and puddles of piss everywhere, and brushed his worries aside. His parents would be wondering where he was. He needed to clean up and get back out. He would worry about this later, when there were less pressing matters. The toilet paper holder was to his left, neatly affixed to the wall two feet above the floor and sporting a fresh roll of toilet paper. He reached down to tear several sheets from the roll.
And
Chapter 8
The bathroom was small but contained all of the modern amenities a person needed: a sink to the left, toilet to the right, shower with the curtain drawn closed dead ahead. The walls were all bare and painted a soothing robin’s-egg blue. Since the bathroom was tucked inside the house, there were no windows. The only light was provided by several small indoor floods set into the ceiling.
Jamie quickly moved to the toilet, unzipped his pants and pulled out his little friend. He sighed as a stream of urine hit the water in the bowl, creating a low, tinkling sound.
He was still going strong fifteen second later when the temperature in the small bathroom plummeted.
It was as if someone threw open a door to Siberia, allowing a bitter arctic wind to blow in and envelop him in a frigid hug. Jamie instinctively wrapped his arms tightly around himself, not wondering why the temperature had dropped but instead simply reacting to the change. His arms proved little defense against the sudden cold, though, which battered and buffeted him and sent his teeth to violent chattering. Before he had a chance to consider the bizarre situation, a buzzing began in his ears, the low, steady drone of dozens of bees hovering around his head. The buzzing was quickly followed by a sudden, throbbing pulse inside his skull.
Jamie had never had a migraine in his life, but as he stood there in front of the toilet, his cock hanging out of his pants, piss spraying carelessly over the rim of the bowl and onto the tiled floor, he knew that he was now experiencing one. His equilibrium was shot, his senses overwhelmed, and he quickly placed both hands against the wall in front of him to steady himself. He tried to keep his eyes open, tried to concentrate on a black dot on the wall, a smudge of dirt, but his vision wavered, his eyes teared, and vertigo threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes tightly against the outside world and watched as colors exploded like Fourth of July fireworks against the backdrop of his eyelids. He tried to push everything away, tried to ignore the cold around him, the heavy buzzing in his ears, the growing queasiness in his gut, the pounding in his skull that threatened to burst his brain.
I’m going to die, Jamie thought as he rested his head against the wall for added support. He clenched his eyelids even harder . Someone’s going to come in and find me dead on the fucking ground in a pool of my piss. The idea of someone stumbling into the tiny bathroom looking for some relief only to discover him dead with his dick hanging out would have made him laugh if he wasn’t in so much agony. Instead, he clenched his teeth together and strained his lips apart as tears rolled from the corners of his eyes.
Jamie felt his legs begin to wobble beneath him. Can’t fall , he thought. Hit my head. Have to ease myself down. He was about to remove his left hand from the wall and place it on the rim of the toilet when everything stopped suddenly. The temperature returned to normal, the buzzing ended, the throbbing abated. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times to readjust to the light. He left his hands and forehead against the wall for several moments, allowing the queasiness and the dizziness to subside. Finally feeling stable, he straightened. He breathed in deeply, happy to be alive but concerned about what had just happened. He looked down at the toilet and the floor, at the beads and puddles of piss everywhere, and brushed his worries aside. His parents would be wondering where he was. He needed to clean up and get back out. He would worry about this later, when there were less pressing matters. The toilet paper holder was to his left, neatly affixed to the wall two feet above the floor and sporting a fresh roll of toilet paper. He reached down to tear several sheets from the roll.
And
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