The bathroom is dimly lit, the only sound being the occasional drip of the brownies. A young woman, Faith, sits on the toilet, her face contorted in discomfort. Sweat beads on her forehead as she strains, her cheeks flushed. Faith is grunting - Come on... come on... She pushes harder, veins bulging in her neck. Nothing happens. She slumps back, exhaling heavily. Her stomach churns ominously. She reaches for the toilet paper, wiping gingerly. A small, hard lump falls into the bowl. She sighs in relief, but it's short-lived. Oh damn - Not again! She starts to strain again, her face turning red. I hate ... I really hate these morning constipations!
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