Evacuate (lord, what a dreadful pun)

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I think the women’s bathroom on my level of our office building must be the most derelict corporate bathroom in the whole city. There’s the constantly flickering fluorescent light. There’s the gaping hole that’s been cut into the ceiling in one stall, so that you can see all the wiring and piping above you, and listen to a phantom breeze whistling eerily about in the roof space. When you stand at the sink, washing your hands or gazing thoughtfully at your reflection, you can hear a wailing sound of an evacuation alarm. I have no idea where this sound comes from - it’s always going, whooping away faintly, every time I walk into the bathroom. Maybe that’s why they cut the hole in the ceiling - someone finally couldn’t stand it anymore.

I’ve never actually asked whether anyone else can hear the alarm as well. Perhaps it’s my very own auditory hallucination. Which, for some reason, only occurs at the bathroom sink.

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