chair, and then I’d start up again.
Finally, after what felt like
forever, I finished. I stood up, took
the newspaper—which is not the
quietest thing—and I slowwwwwly
folded it over. It crinkled. “Who’s
there?” Again I paused, waited.
Then I folded it over some more,
walked over to the rubbish bin,
placed my sin at the bottom, and
gingerly covered it with the rest of
the trash. Then I tiptoed back to the
other room, curled up on the
mattress on the floor, and
pretended to be asleep. The shit was
done, no outhouse involved, and
Koko was none the wiser.