Glug.
Right. The plunger.
She did it again. Push. Pull. Push. Pull. Each time, she felt a tiny shift, like something deep in the pipes was waking up. Her arms began to burn. She kept going, finding a rhythm: three slow pumps, then a quick break to let the water settle. unblock a toilet with a plunger
She set the plunger down on a towel, sat on the edge of the bathtub, and laughed. Her phone buzzed. The Wi-Fi was back. A notification popped up: Your landlord liked a tweet. she felt a tiny shift
“I am a god.”
The water level now sat an inch higher than usual. Stubborn. Menacing. finding a rhythm: three slow pumps