SIN SO SWEET
The line snaked forever… some drunk guy pissing on trees, girls squatting in bushes, someone crying because their friend wouldn’t let them cut.
I spotted one door slightly opened. There was no line in front, I bolted, entered inside, and locked it.
The smell hit like a slap… ammonia, shit, bleach, rotting food, and something sour-sweet like spilt energy drink. The floor was slick with God-knows-what; my flip-flops slid as I tried to squat over the hole. The plastic seat was warm from the sun and sticky, the kind of warm that makes your skin crawl. The walls were filled with writing, phone numbers, and a crude drawing of a girl giving head.
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