Ode to an Ex

It's been a while since we had any contact. I know you are unable to respond to this post, but I feel compelled to write it.

This morning, as I stood in the far corner of the yard dumping out the sloggy mess that results from an overdue hairwashing, I glanced in your direction. Let's be frank, you were never much of a looker, but you've reached a new low.

When we first met, I almost cried at the sight of you. Again, let's be honest, you were a real step down for me. We were flung together anyhow, and I learned to get along. Sure, you were too hot to handle in the heat of an African midday son. You weren't always as hygenic as I might have wished, but all that crouching turned out to be pretty stellar exercise. You always stood straight and tall, a beacon of refuge when parasites and bacteria threatened to squeeze from my very pores. In short, we learned to get along. I settled down. You were my one and only. No Prince Charming, but it seemed like we would have a long and happy life together.

Then, disaster struck. The rains came and try as you might, you could not fight the shifting sands. You slid, you shuddered and finally, you fell. Your tin walls remain standing, as a testament to your former glory perhaps, but they are tilted like an Okoboji funhouse. The gaping pit has been exposed, a depthless pool of darkness. You lean away, in fear, or in shame. You are a shadow of your former self.

While you lie, defeated, in your corner. I now trek to the neighbor's. It is a journey I abhor. Whatever our troubles may have been, I apologise. I took you for granted. Now that it's over between us, I miss you. My only hope is to replace you, dear former pit toilet, with a genuine flush toilet in just a few months. I can hardly wait.