Friend's House

I was told, before hand, about this one ‘That toilet is big.’

‘Are you going to use our toilet Sam? Go on.’ – knowing about the blog.
Inevitably nature tinkled those little bells: I imagine as I go up the stairs, some massive expanse. Like stepping into a huge hall with a little bog right at it’s centre. It’s not quite as big as that, but it is unusually large. Part of it is that everything in a toilet clings to the walls, so all the space in the room is there, right at the centre of the room. You could fit a few armchairs in here with a little coffee table, comfortably. But the toilet, a little ceramic chair to the left of the room, presides throne-like over the room (the chamber). I feel the need to stand there, in the middle, everything well out of armsreach, and I look at that toilet. The bog that greedily claims all this space, in this little house.