Bath Tub Blocked -

“Oh, for the love of…” Jasper nudged it with his toe. Nothing. Just a greasy film and the faint, sour smell of old soap and something else. Something deeper.

Jasper stared at the blocked bath. He didn’t call Keith. He didn’t buy the corrosive bottle. He just turned off the light, closed the bathroom door, and for the rest of his lease, showered at the gym. The water in the tub never drained. It just sat there, grey and patient, watching the ceiling crack, waiting for the next renter brave enough to reach in. bath tub blocked

He knelt on the bathmat, the cold linoleum biting his knees. He rolled up his sleeve, took a breath, and plunged his hand into the murk. His fingers found the drain, a metal starfish of grime. He pushed past it. “Oh, for the love of…” Jasper nudged it with his toe

The water swirled once, a weak, apologetic half-circle, then gave up. It sat there, grey and slick, a tepid mirror reflecting the cracked ceiling of Jasper’s rented flat. The sponge bobbed listlessly, a defeated starfish. Something deeper

His knuckles scraped against the curved pipe. Then, his fingertip touched something soft. Organic. He pinched. Pulled.