OUTHOUSE
It might not be on par with modern amenities, but it's better than a squat in the woods by far.
At least here, there is a seat and proper toilet paper. I wouldn't trade that for a handful of leaves - not ever.
The outhouse is old, long out of use really. Still, it's nice to have a quiet place to retreat sometimes.
I look up the old dirt stairs, overgrown and somewhat washed out after years of neglect. The glow of the spotlight from the distant cottage barely cuts through the darkness.
I climb the stairs and pull open the battered screen door, the squeak of the hinges creaking off through the night.
The smell is not as potent as it used to be, but there is still a hint of what lies down that deep, dark hole.
I lower myself onto the seat and stare out into the darkness. In the distance, I can hear the clanking of dishes in the sink, laughter from the people I have come here with.
None of them ever make the trip to this forgotten outpost, bit I find the nostalgia refreshing. It's a nice retreat, a quick get away from the crowd.
I'll finish up soon, go wash my hands, and help with the dishes. For now though, I'm going to enjoy this quiet moment in the dark.
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