When I was in elementary school, there was a public restroom next to where I lived. The elderly woman who watched the toilet lived inside it, keeping the restroom clean while she ate, drank, and—well—you know—handled the most basic bodily needs in that little cubicle.

…Later, the area was going to be demolished, and the elderly woman hanged herself in her own little cubicle inside the restroom…
I remember seeing her little cubicle when I went to use the bathroom: a quilt laid on the ground, and in that tiny space, it was packed with all the things from her entire life.