The Toilet Official

In that moment, Arthur realized something. His sanctuary wasn't just a place to hide; it was a place where life, in all its small and messy forms, continued. The toilet wasn't an escape from the world; it was a microcosm of it. He looked down at his crossword. S-H-E-L-T-E-R.

The white porcelain throne sat in the center of the cramped, windowless bathroom like a silent, indifferent deity. To Arthur, it was the only place in the world where he truly belonged. the toilet

Arthur froze. He held his breath, the crossword pencil poised mid-air. The scratching continued, moving from behind the sink toward the base of the toilet. Then, a tiny, whiskers-first face poked out from a gap in the floorboards. It was a mouse, its eyes like black beads, looking up at Arthur with a mixture of curiosity and judgment. In that moment, Arthur realized something