The Bathroom You Use After Midnight
You will be up later. This is the toilet by the bedroom. The glow from your phone screen skims the matte white ceramic when you stumble in at 1:47 a.m.,… Read more »
The bowl looks still and the tank is hissing. Tank Lip is for that one toilet: the water that keeps running, the handle and the chain, and whether you leave it until morning.
The Run is the water you can hear. The Handle is the chain and the flapper you can see with the lid off. Leave It is what you do tonight if it will not stop.
Each page finishes one toilet. A minute or a cup is an illustrative example unless you are watching the tank in front of you.
You will be up later. This is the toilet by the bedroom. The glow from your phone screen skims the matte white ceramic when you stumble in at 1:47 a.m.,… Read more »
There are two bathrooms. One of them is hissing. You’re leaning in the hallway, socked foot propped against the baseboard, listening to the high, thin sound seep under the guest… Read more »
The cap on the fill valve turns with your fingers. You don’t need a wrench, a flathead screwdriver, or a shop towel for extra grip right now. You’re leaning one… Read more »
Two bolts sit where the tank meets the bowl. One of them rocks. You kneel on the cool tile floor, knee pressing into a stray dust bunny you missed last… Read more »
The lid is heavy. You put it on a towel on the floor. Condensation drips off the porcelain edge onto the towel threads, leaving dark, round splotches that spread slow…. Read more »
You have pressed it twice. It has not come back up. Your finger still hovers half an inch above the flat chrome top, the faint water rush from the bowl… Read more »
You can see the round seat. The flap is supposed to cover all of it. You lean in a little closer, fingers still brushing the edge of the tank lid… Read more »
The old one is in your hand. The new one is still wrapped. Dried black rubber crumbs flake off the old flapper’s cracked seal onto your jeans, and the faint… Read more »
The flush finished. The chain is lying in a loop. You lean in, elbows resting lightly on the cold porcelain rim, and squint at the mess of plastic and metal… Read more »
You press the handle. The chain does not move. You wiggle the handle a little, it spins loose with no resistance, no quiet clink of the flush valve lifting, no… Read more »
Your hand is under the bowl. A plastic nut is there. Your knuckles brush the cool, damp ceramic of the base as you twist your wrist to get a better… Read more »
One tank has a cup on a rod. Yours has a ball. You lean in, elbows resting lightly on the cool porcelain edge, and squint at the bobbing sphere half-submerged… Read more »
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