THE ZONE

Set into the side of the hill over which the sun was rising, the Zone is a teepee in which I sat between two women before leaving to look for a toilet.
Walking through light undergrowth and a few trees I came out onto a golf course near a green and a man making ready to putt.
In the distance the young son of someone used to be a friend of mine stood next to a dark green white top portaloo.
‘I need a wee,’ he said pissing himself as I reached him.
‘I was looking for a toilet myself,’ I said.
He took his hand from out the back of his trousers and held it up to show the shit on his fingers.
‘I’ll help you with that,’ I said putting on some rubber gloves.
‘Can we go back to the Zone?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘When you’re all cleaned up.’