He couldn't. He'd used the plunger. He'd used the other plunger. He'd even tried the "dish soap and hot water" trick his mother swore by, which now meant his bathroom smelled like a lemon-scented swamp.
Mark just stood there. He didn't know what had just happened. He didn't want to know. He only knew that the toilet was no longer blocked. blocked toilet
Mark stared at the toilet bowl. The water, instead of retreating to its porcelain cave, was rising. Steadily. Menacingly. It kissed the rim, trembled, and then… stopped. A mere millimeter from catastrophe. He couldn't
Mark looked at the lagoon. He looked at his phone. He looked at his one good work shirt, which he’d left draped over the towel rack. He'd even tried the "dish soap and hot
"Okay," Mark whispered, his voice a hostage negotiator’s. "Okay. We can fix this."