As long as the light banishes the dark all is well...with me it was the basement. The toilet was down there set off to the side in its own little room, wood door, deadbolt slide, dirty window looking out under the front porch. Imagine one of those places...if you've never been in one of those places. This toilet had last seen a good cleaning back when Truman was president...not that it couldn't or wouldn't be cleaned...but the linoleum under and around it was beyond redemption. Smell? That could be masked with sprays and cleansers but it was always there, lurking...and the stairwell going down had a single naked bulb hanging over the spot where the floor joist passed overhead...the bottom two steps creaked so you knew that whatever was down there knew you were down there now. I'd try to avoid those, maybe leap off from the fourth step up. Run around the coal furnace and stoker...the furnace looking like a camped-up Robot from Lost in Space, the black sheep of that family...then flick this turn-knob switch that led to the toilet...and off to the left of that was the shower, the floor raised up about a foot above the rest of the basement, an always-present musty smell coming from behind the raised panel door...a plastic curtain hanging between the toilet room and the shower...a dim bulb lighting up behind the curtain when you flicked the switch, some suggestive shadows...the noise from the television above you your only contact as you went about your business, flushed...and then waited! doggone it! to make sure the thing stopped running, listening to the pipes gurgling, maybe some swirl spray from the toilet running down your leg where the pajamas didn't cover. Basements give me the creeps.