November Sixth

In the stall today, staring at the blank grey walls. These walls are too close. A woman's voice yells out from the stall next to me, "Susan are you pooping?". There is no answer. I wonder why Susan is not answering as I flush the toilet and tuck in my work shirt. Complete silence, no sounds of waste hitting water, no sounds of giant toilet paper rolls turning. As I walked past the other stalls, I notice only one set of feet. I washed my hands quickly and headed back to work. Could this mystery woman have thought I was Susan, or more likely, was she Susan talking to herself?