Lub pushed. But the river felt thick. Sludgy.
Lub and Dub fell back into their old rhythm, but it was different now. It wasn’t just a duet anymore. It was a trio.
The dam broke. The sludge flowed into the side-channel, where it would be dissolved and forgotten. The pressure eased. The House of Ribs sighed.
Dub snapped. But the echo was muffled, delayed.