A Yummy Snippet
Sep. 23rd, 2009 08:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nonionayFrom the Pans Labyrinthesque WWII story:
The latrine was a dank little hut that sweated on the inside. Flesh puckered at the bases of the rough wooden seats. Was it a strain holding six toilets in your mouth? Was it worth whatever reward the latrine got from eating our waste? This is what I wondered when I visited, my backside being tickled by the hot breath heaving from the hole. By then I was too numb to be disturbed. In fact, the latrine, despite the eye-watering stench, was the warmest place in the camp and on many days, when our oil-burning stoves broke down, we'd gather on the soft floor of the latrine and play mah jong with digestive gurglings as our background music.
The latrine was a dank little hut that sweated on the inside. Flesh puckered at the bases of the rough wooden seats. Was it a strain holding six toilets in your mouth? Was it worth whatever reward the latrine got from eating our waste? This is what I wondered when I visited, my backside being tickled by the hot breath heaving from the hole. By then I was too numb to be disturbed. In fact, the latrine, despite the eye-watering stench, was the warmest place in the camp and on many days, when our oil-burning stoves broke down, we'd gather on the soft floor of the latrine and play mah jong with digestive gurglings as our background music.
