Bernie was a man of superior intelligence. In addition to graduating in the top of his class at one of the most prestigious schools in the nation, he’d worked hard in his younger years to climb the corporate ladder, determined to reach the top of an emerging company specializing in IT Security. His success in this endeavor came a little later than he hoped, but by the time he reached his late thirties, he’d become the president of the now multi-billion dollar company. Alongside his beautiful wife and three adorable children, his life was absolutely perfect. Aside from one health issue – his constant struggle with severe allergies. Over the years, Bernie had begun to develop allergies, with flare-ups only happening on windy days or with sudden changes in the weather. He never gave them any attention, thinking that they would always go away over time. Indeed, they did go away, for a little while, at least. However, these allergies eventually turned into something much worse than a simple nuisance. They began returning on days that seemed to have no reasoning for them, and they’d remain for longer periods of time. After more time had passed, Bernie found himself unable to breathe properly, day or night. Instead of sneezing dozens of times throughout the day, his nasal passages became completely blocked, forcing him to breathe through his mouth. That worked for a while, but only until his throat began sealing up as well. Realizing that he needed to re-evaluate his priorities, he took a leave from work in hopes that his health would improve. Two years into his leave…

“Come on, dad! My birthday only comes once a year, and I don’t want to spend it home all day long!” Bernie’s oldest daughter shouted excitedly as she pulled on his arm. Bernie had been lying on the couch for the past three days, devoid of any energy to even sit upright. “Can we at least go see a movie or something? You won’t need to talk to anyone, I promissssssse!”

Bernie placed a pillow over his head and made a muffled groan, “Uhhhh.”

“Please, dad, pleasssssse!”

“Ok, you win,” Bernie said through his congestion. “I’ll get my coat.”

The family made it to the theater and secured prime seats for a film that had topped the box office for a few straight weeks, but Bernie was so miserable the entire time that he couldn’t even recall if the film was animated or live action. Once the end credits began running, he stormed out of the theater as quickly as he could, an attempt to catch a urinal before the lines started forming. To his misfortune, not only was every urinal taken, but every stall was taken as well, the legs of six men with pants around their ankles lining his vision as he crouched down to see if one was open. He sighed and stood behind one of the occupied urinals, then moved forward once it opened up.

As Bernie began relieving himself, small beads of urine splashing onto his leg hairs, he took a deep breath in. Man, this place stinks, he thought. Probably because everyone’s shit is blending in the air. It’s just a big sick mix of – wait a second, how am I able to tell what it smells like in here? I can’t breathe, or can I? He took another deep breath, his passageways as clear as can be. He took another, and another. “What?” he said under his breath. “How can I…what is…I can breathe!” he said a little louder. Then overcome with excitement, “I CAN BREATHE!” he shouted for everyone in the bathroom to hear.

He zipped up, dribbling on himself in the process, and hugged the person at the urinal beside him, causing the man to stream on his own shoe. He walked to the middle of the bathroom and spun with his arms spread wide, breathing deeply over and over. “I can’t believe it!” he shouted into the air. “I need to tell the family, it’s a miracle!” He ran out of the bathroom and caught his family just as they were leaving the theater. “You’ll never believe what – “ he was cut off. He placed his hands on his throat, a sudden sensation of being choked taking over.

He could feel his throat tightening, his airways caving in. His family rushed to help him, but he waved them off. “I’m fine,” he croaked. “Strange, I was able to breathe perfectly in the bathroom not even thirty seconds ago, but now it’s back to normal.” People had begun staring in their direction.

“What do you mean, you were able to breathe? You haven’t breathed freely for years,” Bernie’s wife said, confused.

“I mean it!” he responded the best he could. “I’ve never had that kind of respiratory freedom in my life! But now it’s gone, and I have no idea why.”

Bernie’s wife wrapped her arms around him, “Oh, honey. I know you want to be able to breathe like you used to. We all want that,” she looked at the kids. “But pretending isn’t going to help. It’ll only make you more miserable. And it scares the daylights out of us!”

“I’m not preten – “ he began coughing uncontrollably, the result of losing his temper.

“Let’s get you home, honey. This has been an eventful enough day for all of us. And we still need to cut the cake!”

So they returned home to finish celebrating Bernie’s eldest, Bernie celebrating from the comfort of the couch and thinking about what could’ve been in that bathroom to allow him to breathe without obstruction. I need to get back there, he thought. And so he did.

The next morning, Bernie snuck out of the house and arrived at the theater a few minutes before it opened for the day. “Good morning, here to see an early one, are we?” the theater employee asked as she unlocked the main entrance door.

“Uh, yeah. Yes, I mean. Yes, I am.”

“Wonderful!” the employee exclaimed. “Tickets can be purchased right over there,” she pointed to a self-service kiosk to their right.

“Thank, thank you,” returned Bernie. He walked over to the kiosk and purchased a ticket for the first film that appeared on the list.

The employee tore the ticket and allowed him into the theater. “This is a great one, everyone’s raving about it.”

“Mmm, I sure am excited,” Bernie murmured, not even knowing which movie he'd purchased the ticket for. “Better use the restroom first though. Wouldn’t want to have to go midway through the film.”

“That’s a great idea, sir. Enjoy the show!”

Bernie sidestepped to the bathroom, trying not to raise suspicion, but doing so simply because he sidestepped. Once he made it to the bathroom, he attempted a full breath. He coughed when his lungs didn’t fill. What? Why? It worked just last night! he thought. He looked around the room. He looked in the stalls, he turned on sinks, he flushed urinals, trying to find the secret to his breathing. No luck. He walked to the middle of the bathroom and spun in complete silence with his arms extended. Still nothing.

Bernie remained in the bathroom all day, a few people coming in and out every once in a while. Then evening arrived. Maybe it’s the people and not the bathroom, he thought. He decided to wait it out until the bathroom became full, which it did shortly after seven o’clock. Men walked to the urinals, washed their hands, then left, but Bernie’s breathing didn’t improve. Bernie grew frustrated and nearly gave up. Then came the turning point.

Three men entered the bathroom and walked immediately to the stalls. Three other men were already taking up stalls of their own, so these next three put the bathroom's stalls at full capacity. Bernie crouched down like he had the night before and saw the legs of six men again. Noises started coming from the stalls until the entire bathroom sounded like a band of professional brass instrumentalists. People from the concession lines left their places and rushed over to hear the music. Bernie frowned at the spectators, but his frown disappeared as he began to feel his airways open up.

The music turned to screams and people started running out of the bathrooms from the stench that was rising. But Bernie, able to breathe again, stood there wafting his hands to bring the stench to his nose more strongly. The men in the stalls audibly pushed, Bernie cooed, and the soft sound of trombones completed the song in the background, creating a beautiful, terrible melody, depending on who you were.

Men cycled in and out of the stalls for the next three hours. The smell of dozens of men’s shit mixed into the air as if the cool Northern Wind had tangled with the warm Wind of the South and created an explosion comparable to two galaxies colliding. Bernie joyfully sobbed on his knees in the middle of the bathroom, staring at the air above him, but to the passersby it merely looked like he was staring at the ceiling in hysteria.

Bernie remained in the bathroom until closing time. When the janitor arrived with cleaning products, Bernie snapped and pushed the janitor against the wall, squeezing his neck tightly. Then, washed over with shame from what he’d just done, he released the janitor and slowly backed away. “I’m…I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” he said sincerely. He looked around and realized he’d just spent his entire day in the bathroom of a movie theater. His family was undoubtedly worried about him, as he hadn’t spoken to them all day. He took a final unobstructed breath, then left the bathroom to return to his family.

On the way home, however, he couldn’t shake the urge – the uncontrollable yearning desire – to breathe freely once more. He pulled to the side of the road and thought for a few minutes, contemplating if it would really be worth it to abandon his family altogether for the purpose of ridding himself of the allergies that had been tormenting him for years. That, but the smell is also a bonus. There’s nothing in the world like it, and I wouldn’t want to turn it down forever, he thought. He imagined the scent of the bathroom, that thick pungent air stimulating his senses. His salivary glands began firing. He moaned, then he made his decision. He’d leave his old life – his wife, his children, his job – and he’d start a new one, one without congestion. One where he’d be surrounded with that mouthwatering aroma.

Twelve years later, Bernie found himself at home. His new home. Shortly after leaving his family, he’d traveled to California in hopes of finding a discreet space in an LAX airport bathroom where he could burrow into the wall and live. And he’d succeeded, just like he always did in his past life. His life had been complete bliss for years, the bathroom at the airport rarely losing its strong scent of shit. But things were changing, as they always do. The world was becoming more hygienic as time passed, which caused people to use public facilities less often. The shit blend that kept Bernie’s airways open was slowly being diluted with clean, fresh air. This posed an enormous problem for Bernie, as not only was he in need of a strong mix, but he also found himself needing progressively stronger mixes as time passed, the same way a drug addict needs to increase their consumption over time in order for their fix to be satisfied. Bernie had to make a change, had to find somewhere new.

So he headed for the mountains. He went as deep into the mountains as he could, to a place where established public restrooms didn’t exist. People will still need to shit way up here. That's a fact that the state government cannot ignore, he thought. He searched the local area for hours, trying to find the government's solution to the lack of restrooms. Then he found it. There we go, and she’s a beaut.

The old outhouse was made entirely of rotting pine, and stood about seven feet from floor to ceiling. Within, a hole was positioned in the center, just wide enough for Bernie to slither into and begin building his residence. Tears filled his eyes, the odor so powerful that it invaded his nostrils before he could even attempt to breathe. It filled his lungs and moisturized every part of his body that it touched. Bernie opened his mouth and let the blend rest on his taste buds. He couldn’t contain himself, the sensation was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He looked down at the source of it all. He lifted his right hand out of the swamp and gazed at it through awestruck eyes. He brought a finger to his lips and was taken to a different dimension. Every one of his senses tingled with delight, so much so that he began convulsing and had to swallow before it killed him. He sat back upright and wondered how he could be so fortunate to have been given such a perfect experience, such a divine life. And just imagine, this stuff is old! It’s probably been stewing in here for months, he thought to himself. God, what I wouldn’t give for a taste while it’s still warm.

Just then, someone entered the outhouse. Bernie cowered into the shadows of the septic container. The stranger positioned themselves on the seat and everything went dark for Bernie. Still, his senses had become so refined, he knew exactly where to go and what to do. After a push, the soft serve began flowing and Bernie waited to catch the fresh. The convulsions resumed as the brown filled his mouth, but this time, there was too much to swallow. He tried breathing, but failed. He started choking and his eyes became spirals. So much brown fell that it covered his entire body until he couldn’t be heard even if he managed to scream. He was swept away once more to another dimension, but this time pain was the main sensation. His mind tried its hardest to return to reality, but his body had shut down. He’d crossed over permanently, and there was no going back. Flashbacks of his former self – his beautiful wife and kids, his job, and all of his other successes – flew passed his mind’s eye in an eternal circular loop. Take me back! Oh, please, take me back! he thought but couldn't say.

The stranger left the outhouse, left the area, and the forest became silent again. Nothing remained but some wildlife, drawn in for reasons they couldn’t quite place, to an old structure made of rotting pine.