My turn has come. I eagerly step past the door, sit down and breathe a sight of relief. The rush came through me like flood water coming out of a gate. Maybe it's just something I ate, maybe it's not. When everything is said and done, I look to my side only to see there's nothing left. A single empty cylinder. No word of warning, no sign of help.

They said when you're at your lowest point, you're open to the greatest change. Caught between a piece of porcelain and locked door, contemplating should I make a run for it, panic sets over me. Will I suffer humiliation, shame, disgust, contempt or worse?

I close my eyes, breathe in deeply and ready myself. Three taps on the separator startles me then I see a hand gently put a roll of paper under. "I used them all, sorry". "Thank you". "You're welcome".

Sometimes you will only appreciate small gestures when you're caught with your pants down and no where to go. I guess "MAYBE THE HUMAN RACE ISN'T SO BAD AFTER ALL"