Loren walked purposefully toward the employee loo avoiding eye contact, tucking his novel unobtrusively under his armpit. Loren completed at least three good books a year while dropping a deuce. He was happy to be reading The Wind up Bird Chronicle, but thought he may be stretching the servant/master trust to breaking point by turning rest stop time into fun time (and prolonging an already lengthy engagement). There was no obscene graffiti to occupy his attention, these toilets were always kept pristine, so he felt somewhat justified in supplying his own material.
After finding a comfortable position, his meditative focus was disturbed by an incoming cubicle compatriot. If a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make a noise? Loren didn't know, but he preferred to not have anyone hear his noises. The bodily ones were bad enough, but to be caught reading on the john at work, oh the embarrassment. Loren froze for a time, then after an uncomfortable silence came sweet relief: the sound of rustling pages from the adjacent potty. Free to read, free at last, oh my people, free at last.