The women's washroom with its sanitary pad dispensers and special bins for period products, had the air of the girl's dormitory, a place where one was temporarily relieved of the expectation of poise and perfect presentation.
The public washroom was a clean and bright space, white countertops and shiny silver taps. The air had a tincture of bleach, naturally, it was that kind of place. Yet infused with that was the scent of lavender, a calming reminder of the natural world.
The public washroom was a place to escape to, a sort of sanctuary. I guess it was because it was so clean, so orderly, and with an inbuilt expectation of privacy and respect for personal space.
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