He could have a look at her whenever the door would open. Usually the door never opened for more than few seconds. Whenever it did, one could notice the smile on his face and the spark in his eyes.
She was gorgeous. He especially liked her legs. They were smooth and beautiful. They shone in the filtered rays that entered the hallway through the blinds. She stayed in a big room, separated by his, by a narrow white door. Her room was way bigger than his. He had seen her entire room only once. That had been the day when he had first visited the house. His room wasn’t yet ready and so he had to spend the day, the entire day in her room, seated in one corner. That was the first time he had seen her. He had been left awestruck by her beauty. None of them had exchanged any word. He was sure, she had liked him too.
Later in the evening, some strangers had escorted him to his small room. That was the first time he had crossed the door. Ever since, he had been forced to spend all his time in his room. His room for life. It was neat and clean but it was small with a smaller window that remained closed most of the times. Ever since, his moments of joy were nothing but those few seconds when the door would open and he would get to see her. Sometimes even that didn’t happen. She was nowhere to be seen. But most of the times, she was right there. The beautiful she.
She never came to his room. Everyone else did. Call him pervert, but he had easily managed to see the residents of the house naked. Once he also got a rare opportunity to watch the land-lady and the land-lord having sex. He was so turned on by the act that he kept wishing for it to happen again. He kept wishing that for several days. Sadly, it never did. The couple had probably realized that he had seen it all. They never talked about it. He continued his peeking act but soon got bored of watching them. It was she who he really cared about. The beautiful she.
In a way, he was needed more in the house than her. So what if she was beautiful and would often receive a compliment from some guest or another? He knew he was more important. No one ever talked about him or ever praised him. They all took him for granted. Probably because he was too nice. But then, he didn’t know how else to be. He was in the house to perform his duty, and that he did. It was true that everyone offered him nothing but shit. He never complained. He could take any shit with a smiling face; with the same smiling face that he exhibited every time he got a chance to admire her grandeur, through the only door that separated their rooms.
The poor commode knew he was madly in love with the teak chair that lived in the hallway.
PS: A western style toilet is also referred to as a commode.