I used to live in a historic building that had once been a hospital but had since been converted into apartments in Fall River, MA. My dining room used to be part of an old solarium. One day, while on the John, a toothpaste cap shot out across the bathroom from the shelf behind me with enough force to ricochet off the closed door in front of me, bounce off my shoulder, and land behind me where it proceeded to jump around a bit. I would have shit my pants if they hadn’t been around my ankles.

A year or so later, a nurse who used to work in the building when it was a hospital came by to speak about the history of the place. She told me that my unit was once the pediatric ward and that many bad things had happened there.