The ghosts always make it harder to use the bathroom. They're not the phantasmal kinds you're probably used to; these ones are solid-feel thicker than rubber-but if you touch them they'll start melting all over you-like a lit candle falling on a face. It's a weird thing to think about, let alone witness. It's kind of like watching an ice cube that is floating in a space ship melt and touching the water that is floating away from the ice cube when the space ship is disintegrating in an atmosphere. I think it's the smell of urine that keeps them coming back. It's so heavy in here. I always use the urinal stall that's furthest away from the corner; there are always a group of ghosts constantly pushing themselves into a corner. I unzip my pants and I see a ghost curled up in the foetal position in the bottom of the urinal stall. It's holding the urinal cake very tightly, looking at its own reflection in the urinal cake. I don't feel bad when I urinate all over the ghost and its face. I think the ghost is kind of turned on. It laps its tongue at me and thrusts its pelvic area at me even though it doesn't have a pelvis. I feel turned on in a perverted sense. I try not to make this my bathroom fetish.

I leave the office washroom and I think one of the ghosts has been brave enough to leave the comforting confines of the washroom stall. It's stalking me, bumping into things. Not at all trying to be cunning or like a mattress.