“Curse these bowels!”
Similar sentiments echoed off the pasty white tiles of the dim West Bank bathroom. “If only this spring were warmer, instead of cloudy, with highs around 50, and a 40 percent chance of rain.,” thought Elmo, “then everybody wouldn’t be strung out on cold medicine causing acute constipation.”
“Is there no God?!?”
Elmo winced as the curses resumed. “Thursday will still be cloudy with highs in the lower 50s,” Elmo whispered between the divider, “but I can solve your problems.” Elmo sliped an Ex-lax under the metal wall and watched the pale hand grapple for it as he flushed.