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Next came the wire coat hanger, straightened with brute force and guilt. He fed it down the plughole, twisting blindly. The metal scraped against something soft and unyielding: a wad of something ancient. Hair, probably. Soap scum. The film of a hundred showers and a dozen half-melted bath bombs from the Christmas before last.
Liam sat back on the bathmat, victorious and revolted. He ran the tap for a minute just to watch it drain clean. Then he poured bleach down the plughole, lit a candle, and made a silent promise to buy a drain guard.
He fetched the plunger first—the small sink-sized one, which was optimistic. Three hard pumps sent a belch of foul air up through the drain, but the water level didn’t drop. It just shivered, as if mocking him.
Next came the wire coat hanger, straightened with brute force and guilt. He fed it down the plughole, twisting blindly. The metal scraped against something soft and unyielding: a wad of something ancient. Hair, probably. Soap scum. The film of a hundred showers and a dozen half-melted bath bombs from the Christmas before last.
Liam sat back on the bathmat, victorious and revolted. He ran the tap for a minute just to watch it drain clean. Then he poured bleach down the plughole, lit a candle, and made a silent promise to buy a drain guard.
He fetched the plunger first—the small sink-sized one, which was optimistic. Three hard pumps sent a belch of foul air up through the drain, but the water level didn’t drop. It just shivered, as if mocking him.