Someone has stuck a sanitary pad to the inside of the stall door. It’s raining hard outside. I stand back from the toilet, my feet shoulder width apart, to avoid stepping in the puddle of piss. Someone has stuck a pad to the inside of the door, but all I can think about is how I don’t want to move house. The band is getting ready to start. I can hear the tentative twangs and booms of the guitars and bass being taken up through the walls of the toilet. I wash my hands.