There is no hot water in this room. Even the hot water pump - separate to the dual taps - is ineffectual in its lukewarm-ness. The watering can is a relic from a bygone room; perhaps a greenhouse, which once stood on this very site. Many an editorial conundrum has been cogitated in this commode. I also had my first professional student wipe here, while wrestling with exactly why a writer would utilise a second-person narrative. (And the lack of paper.) Enjoy.
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I might add that this is my work toilet. Hence the 'Ladies' sign. You know, in case I come across weird.
Thanks for explaining, Gavin. I thought the mustard color thing might be James Wood's neti pot.
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