He texted Mrs. Gable back: “I’ll call a plumber. And I’ll buy you a new light fixture. And maybe a helmet.”
He inserted the plunger with the solemnity of a knight drawing Excalibur. He pushed down. Nothing. He pulled up. A thick, gluttonous glug echoed through the pipes, a sound less like a drain clearing and more like a stomach digesting something regrettable. upstairs toilet clogged
“Did you plunge with conviction ?”
“Yes!”
Leo froze. He stepped down cautiously. He peered into the empty, clean bowl. Had it worked? Had the hot water, delivered from the precise altitude of his sternum, performed the miracle? He texted Mrs