Post-Valentine's Vivid Drunken Dream, Part 2 (Toilette) [February 16th | 46/365]

The bathroom walls were a deep green,
with rows of urinals and curtained
showers, and a boy up past his bedtime
stood at the furthest urinal--my brother,

who understands. I started at him, set
to complain about our father, but
it wasn't my brother at all. His shirt
hung off of his collarbone. He resembled

a cousin I had once, but didn't know me
and got scared. I retreated to the urinal
at the other end, but a second later,
I heard him coughing, almost gagging,

and from the very edge of my eye,
saw fluid flying from his mouth.
Without looking all the way,
I asked if he was going to be okay,

but he said, "Yes. I'm fine,"
insulted and frightened. I
went on pissing. He went on
coughing. The walls dimmed.