He wanders around town, always staring down at the sidewalk. If he cocks his ear, he thinks he can hear the rush of piss and shit flowing in the sewers. He believes that his excretions follow him wherever he goes, and this comforts him.

As he crosses the street, he loses track of the sound; the sewer pipe doesn't run this way. A few miles later, he picks it up again, louder this time, faster. It has company now.

At the edge of the city, he stops, hearing the sewage flow onward. He knows that its ultimate destination is the plant a few miles north, but he imagines it continuing on and on, all the way to Alaska, maybe, or the North Pole. He smiles to himself. "My excrement is really going places now."