“Suddenly I stood up mightily...bent forward a little, and in one go I produced. I turned. What a sight! What a smell! It was a magnificent log of excrement, at first poorly formed, like conglomerate rock that hasn't had the time to set, and dark brown, nearly black, then resolving itself into a dense texture of a rich chestnut hue, with fascinating convolutions. It started deep in the potty, but after a coil or two it rose up like a hypnotised cobra and came to rest against my calf, where I remember it very, very warm, my first memory of temperature. It ended in a perfect moist peak.”
Book:Self
