Northern_Lights_2014

Where All That Flushes Goes By Mattie Hoyle Ever wonder, while sitting on that throne, where it is that all that flushes goes? Like there’s an alternate dimension, lost in the winding, twisting, turns of pipes. A place far away, where maybe, just maybe, all the random objects that fit into that porcelain bowl, all the pets that didn’t quite survive your childhood, and the inevitable swirling turds find their forever homes. And then you wonder, “Are they happy there?” In amongst their fellow flush-ables, perhaps they find a kind of peace, or maybe they plot to someday overthrow us. Should we be preparing for an invasion of poopy proportions, one that will leave a stench, that no amount of breath holding nor cases of air freshener can even hope to quell? And finally you remember, as you stand and watch the water swirl, you really don’t want to know, where all that flushes goes. Back to Contents 63