The Eye in the Drain

I'm telling you this because I don't have anyone else. I don't even care if you believe me. I don't want you to do anything but listen. Don't judge me. Don't offer advice. Just fucking listen. Hey get back here! Would a beer be enough to get you to listen to an old friend for five fucking minutes? Yeah, I know I sound crazy. And I do not give a shit which should tell you something. The old me would have cared, right?

I cared about a lot of stupid shit.

Anyway I think that some . . . thing . . . is following me. No, not following me. Waiting. When I go into certain bathrooms, it has to be a coffee shop not a restaurant or a bar but a coffee shop, anyway I go into one of these bathrooms and down in the floor drain I see an eye. Like something's looking up at me. It always looks the same every time, kind of wet and almost an under-cooked egg but I can see the pupil! It's not even in every bathroom or even every coffee shop but maybe one in five or ten and it's there, waiting for me. Staring at me. Watching me.