I went to the posh loo in a posh shopping centre. There were recordings of a forest with birds singing, and trees swishing in a gentle breeze. It did smell rather horrible in there, though.
The conveniences themselves had fancy hard translucent pink seats for hygiene (they said). I lifted the seat and a fly flew out of the bowl.
Later, when I went to wash my hands, the cleaner was trimming the bristles of the tattered broom she'd been using to sweep up, holding it over the bin to give it a haircut. Now that, I thought, was very sweet.
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