From dunnies to stalls, writers were flush with ideas and piddled around with dogs, antics, bullying, broken bones, potty training, pregnancy, hiding, culture shock and even the continuing saga of two water molecules.
Without a second flush, let’s go the November 19, 2014 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes the toilet.
The Outhouse and the Bullfrog by Susan Zutautas
Quick Tommy, come on over here and hide behind this tree with us. You got to see what’s going to happen when Miss Smith goes into the outhouse.
What did you do Joey?
You’ll see, just wait, she should come runnin outta there about now.
Just as he said now, the boys heard a scream, and sure enough out she came running with her bloomers wrapped around her ankles.
The boys all watched and giggled as Miss Smith made a mad dash into the schoolhouse.
Tommy saw the biggest bullfrog vacating the outhouse and knew what Joey had done.
Toilet Sanctuary by Norah Colvin
“Miss. Marnie’s locked herself in the toilet and won’t come out.”
“What now?” I thought, scanning the troubled face pleading for assistance as much as to be absolved of blame.
“Okay,” I reassured Jasmine. “Let’s go see what’s up.”
As we hurried to the toilet block Jasmine reiterated her innocence, she hadn’t done anything, she didn’t know what was wrong (it wasn’t her fault).
“I know,” I smiled. The toilet cubicles had frequently been Marnie’s sanctuary. But not for weeks. Jasmine’s kind-hearted friendship had seen to that.
“She’s got her unicorn again,” Jasmine whispered.
“Oh,” I said.
Waterlogged by Pete
Mason was lapping up the water from his favorite commode when they arrived. He came up for air, tilting his head as toilet water dripped from his jowls.
He slid to a stop just before he ran out of hardwood. Aunt Janice stood scowling so Mason ducked under the table, finding Alice, who was always ready to scratch an ear.Detecting some cracker remnants, he nosed closer, unable to help himself from dragging his tongue up her cheek to check.
“Mason, no!” Someone yelled, but Alice laughed.
“It’s okay, they say a dog’s mouth is cleaner than a humans.”
Potty Training by Ruchira Khanna
Paula was running around her 15-month-old son while keeping a keen eye on his actions. Then suddenly, while playing, her toddler, paused, scratched his head as if confused. Showed some discomfort, and bent his knees while popping out his buttocks, while giving out an annoyed sound.
That noise was enough to alert her.
She immediately picked him up and rushed towards the bathroom. Then pulled down his training pants and put him on the throne.
“Phew! Potty training is difficult and a laborious job” she murmured while singing him a lullaby to keep him stationed on the pot.
Preliminary Flush by Larry LaForge
Ozzie and Izzie give each other the nod. They know the drill.
These two water molecules have pledged to maintain their hydrogen bond through thick and thin. They’re in the toilet — literally — but have a plan to escape unscathed.
A sudden movement from above alerts them. Exactly as planned, Ozzie and Izzie immediately begin rocking back and forth in unison. The patron takes the bait, instinctively hitting the flush lever after seeing a disconcerting water ripple in the bowl.
Ozzie and Izzie high-five each other as they joyfully exit through the plumbing.
They made it out before the storm!
The 100-word version of this story is posted at larrylaforge100words on Flash Fiction Magazine.
Toilet Break by Geoff Le Pard
Mary hesitated before opening the email. Dare she look? She’d had enough shocks already. She regretted rising to Rupert’s jibes. Her bloody half-brother.
‘Mandy Johns is your mum, right? Well she’s also my mum’s cousin.’
He told Mary. ‘She died of eclampsia hours after you were born.’
He showed her a photo; Angela and Mandy were almost identical.
‘There’s more,’ he’d said but she’d thought, ‘Sod you, I’ll not rely on you anymore.’
It had taken her weeks. She scanned the email.
….our records show in 1967 Amanda Johns gave birth to twin girls….
Mary ran for the toilet.
Toilet Flash by Irene Waters
“Don’t wait.” June said, already entering the toilet block. Overcome by the stench of ammonia she gagged as she engaged the latch. The opener broke in her hand. There was no way out. She waited. The reek of stale urine was nauseating so, balancing on the toilet, she propelled herself, legs straddling the stall’s dividing wall. She hesitated. The odour’s source was now visible. She slid down the wall, feet flailing trying to find the toilet. Her feet slipped on the wet seat, entering the bowl with a sickening crack. No escape, she waited for rescue and an ambulance.
Finding Relief by Charli Mills
Becky fidgeted. Twice, Mrs. Hart turned from the chalkboard, glaring her into stillness. At recess, Becky bound to the porch, grabbed her coat and pushed past Tommy. A foot of snow covered the ground with a packed trail leading behind the schoolhouse. Becky ran, her leather boots slipping.
“Becky!” It was Tessa calling from behind. Becky motioned her friend to follow. Both girls reached the outhouse, pulling the wooden door shut behind them, fumbling with skirts, petticoats and knickers to finally sit in relief.
Stepping outside the boys had spelled their names in the snow. It was not fair.
Cornered by Sarah Brentyn
She ran out of ink.
The damn ballpoint pen actually went dry before she could finish scratching out all the limericks with her name and the offers with her cell phone number. She hurled the Bic into the toilet, and picked up her backpack.
Her breath caught as she heard the girls’ room door open, laughter trickling in. It was the pack, cackling like hyenas. The same girls who wrote filth in the bathroom stalls.
“Did you see the look on her face? Priceless!”
“I know! What. A. Loser.”
“Be right back—gotta go pee.”
The door opened.
Culture Shock by Anne Goodwin
We’d travel through the sky to live with Appa. There’d be snow, not only on the mountain tops, and people’s wealth would make them smile. “Is it today, Amma?” I asked each morning as we squatted on the riverbank. “Is it today?”
There was no snow, no mountains even. The English – white-skinned as if dusted with talcum powder – scowled. And there was nowhere to go.
Appa showed me a porcelain throne in a tiny room. I dared not squat on that hollow seat lest I fall through. I followed the dog to the garden. The neighbours screamed, “Filthy Wog!”
Brian Gets a Surprise by Tally Pendragon
“I was just washing my hands. I looked in the mirror, and everything had gone black. Then there was this sequence of images. Lots of ladies … one after another. From different times … thousands of years ago, up to … I was holding onto the sink, the water was running. It started splashing me and there was the woman … from last night … your past life … Lily-Anna. She was on her boat that went to the wrong place. And the seawater was splashing me. I let go of the sink at that point and it all went back to normal again.”
Give a hoot where you poop and support UNICEF’s efforts to bring dignity and security to toilets around the world.