The overflowing Sink and the gallery of dirt

"I was walking down a narrow alleyway behind an old bakery, holding a set of brass house keys that I needed to drop into a mailbox. I stepped into a tiny service room to wash my hands, but the white ceramic sink was completely clogged and overflowing with thick, dark brown feces that kept spilling out onto the floor. I felt this intense, gagging wave of disgust and panic, trying to find a towel or a bucket to stop the mess, but every time I turned a handle, more kept backing up out of the drain. I tried to step backward toward the door, but my feet felt stuck to the floor tile like wet glue. Then suddenly I was standing inside a quiet art gallery, holding a small paper cup full of dry dirt. People were strolling past looking at paintings, and I stood there completely paralyzed, terrified that someone would notice the smell on my shoes while trying to figure out how I got there."