大便

had had to shit ever since I woke up. In the morning, in the evening; I’m not sure when I woke up, but when- ever that was, I had to shit since then. But I couldn’t. Or more accurately, I could only if I knew I had enough time and sufficient physical calm in which to drop my pants and defecate thoroughly before the next barrage of missiles. Since Friday, I think since Friday, there had been dozens of mis- siles every few hours, each salvo announced by a horrible buzz- ing alert on my phone, followed by the baleful public siren sig- naling me— and I guess every- one else in the country, but as usual I’m just thinking …