Frank filled the largest pot he owned with tap water, as hot as it would go from the sink—steaming, but not screaming. He carried it slowly, reverently, to the bathroom. The water in the bowl was cold and still, a tiny, stagnant lake of failure.
He paused. Everything online warned against boiling water; it could crack the porcelain, turning a simple clog into a shattered nightmare. But his water was merely hot, like a powerful summer shower.