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.

Parents' House

Yellow is the overriding colour in here. Yellow. It’s quite distracting, when looking about, trying to find things of interest. The colour kind of plains everything out. The toilet is also as standard as they come. If you imagine a smallish room with a toilet right in front of you, a bath to your right, and a sink in between, with a window behind the sink. The walls are yellow, but it’s the yellow/orange blind that covers the window, effecting all of the light coming into the room (except at night when it’s one of those energy saving bulbs, which always give off a kind of yellow light, when you first switch them on).
Also for some reason, I am always very aware of this being my parents’ house. It’s calm but... maybe too calm, unnervingly quiet. You don’t want to spill your noise in here, ’n’ ruin it.