Close examination showed I had passed several feet of long brown string that shimmered as if subtly illuminated by a photographer's light.
And I wasn't alone. Margaret had picked through her colander with chopsticks to reveal yellow fatty chunks, Mez had filled hers to the brim with brown stringy "chicken skin" mucus ("We're talking litres"), as had Derek, whose output included a strip about eight inches long, while Anthony described his as "patchy, like rabbit droppings".
At least I could contribute to the increasingly competitive enema discussions. Someone had always passed something harder, brighter, more bizarre. Margaret's chopsticks had unearthed some gristle, about a foot long, and hard, black pellets. She was so impressed she took a photograph. A few chalets away, Mez had passed "rubbery brown, fat worms" with a strange purple glaze, which she insisted on showing to me in her bathroom.
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