Moments of graphic realism in a co-op on a spring cleaning day.
Cleaning bathroom floors and walls: while you happily remove dark spots, you notice there's something moving on the surface with every stroke of the sponge. An army of wet, curly, two-inch hairs.
Scrubbing sinks, toilets, tubs: at a certain moment, after an hour or so, you reach the mental threshold beyond which it no longer matters what the stuff you're trying to scrub off originally used to be. I suppose it's one way to get closer to the realm of natural bodily functions. Such as this: toilet brushes prove that there is a colour whose rightful name is bright brown. Man ist, was man ißt