One day, sometime in some month of some year, it was the Start of Autumn, and the weather was getting cool. Dampness hung in the air all around me. Suddenly, my stomach started hurting. I couldn't help letting out several muffled farts in a row, then made a frenzied series of N visits to the toilet. When I really couldn't take the "torment of germs" any longer, I immediately, swiftly, at once yanked open every drawer in the house, large and small, searching everywhere for antidiarrheal medicine.
I rummaged around like a raider. At that moment, I regretted never having developed the good habit of paying more attention. After a thorough search, I finally unearthed the medicine in a dark room filled with old furniture. Just as I picked it up, a pile of objects that had accompanied me through my childhood came into view.
A wooden toy rifle
