Once, out of sheer bitterness and boredom, I did something I still struggle to justify. I filled a few empty beer bottles with urine, sealed them carefully, and placed them beside the recycling bin across the road. I told myself I was making a joke but I knew exactly what I was hoping for. I wanted someone desperate to pick one up and drink it. An hour later I saw someone take the bottles. They didn't open one there and then. They just tucked them into a backpack and hurried away. That somehow made it worse. Nothing happened the way I imagined. No laugh. No punishment. Just the quiet knowledge that I had tried to hurt a stranger for no reason at all. The guilt didn't arrive immediately. But when it did, it stayed.