It was 11:47 on a Tuesday night, and Sarah was staring into the abyss.
She waited. Two minutes. Three.
The water level didn’t go down. It actually seemed to smirk at her. unclogging toilet bowl
As Leo left, Sarah looked back at the toilet. It sat there, white and gleaming, utterly unrepentant. She knew the truth. It was waiting. Plotting. One day, she’d get lazy again. It was 11:47 on a Tuesday night, and
“Yes, genius. It’s getting worse.” white and gleaming
Slorch. Slorch. Slorch.
“Put the hanger down,” Leo said, holding up a proper flange plunger and a small plastic snake auger. “Step away from the porcelain.”