“Before humanity fell from Gollah’s graces,” says Pope Mohammed trailing off. His voice echoes against the wall of the public restroom you’re sharing. He is washing his hands. You are on the other side of a stall door sitting on a toilet listening. On the stall door in front of you, it reads, “Have a nice poo.”
“Before humanity fell,” Pope Mohammed repeats. “People’s flatulence smelled like newly-cut flowers and freshly-squeezed lemons.”
Beside you, the stall wall reads, “Satin Rules” around a drawing of a five-sided star.
Pope Mohammed tugs several times on a paper towel dispenser. You listen to the rustling of paper against his skin as he dries his hands. Your pants are around your ankles.
On the other stall wall, it reads, “I feel like this is the only real mark I’ll make in the world.”
Pope Mohammed says, “After the first man and woman disobeyed Gollah, Gollah cursed humanity’s body odor forever.”
If you had a Sharpie, you decide that — underneath “Satin Rules” — you would write, “It’s a nice fabric and all, but I don’t know if it rules.”