I hurl myself down, but I sense that something is wrong.

It is lunchtime.

I want to do a poo.

I walk into the toilet.

I turn around.

I drop my trousers.

I hurl myself down, but I sense that something is wrong.

I look between my legs and realise, too late, that the seat is up.

I try to stop but I’m moving too fast.

I trip.

I reach out my arms to balance.

I stumble.

I fall down the toilet.

My knees are up by my chin.

My arms are flailing helplessly at my side.

It hurts.

I push myself out of the toilet.

I stand up.

I pull down the seat.

I sit down.

I don’t want to do a poo any more.