Brandy Golden
The donut I'd eaten this morning decided to dance around my stomach, crawl gurgling through my intestines, and crawl steadily down the tunnel to the outside world after turning itself into a cottage cheese-like, foulsmelling amoeba hell-bent on escape. Eyeing the distance to the red flag on the beach indicating the nearest restroom and knowing I wasn't going to make it, I still plowed forward in the burning soft sands with an eyelock on that blue door and praying at the same time that no one would notice when I lost the battle.
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