Sealing the Chasm

I mounted the cool porcelain rim overlooking the washbasin's white descent. At the floor of the valley yawned the chrome drain—an open conduit breathing subterranean air from the pipes below. Beside it lay the heavy metal stopper on its flank, its beaded steel chain trailing in disarray. Such neglect invites instability. Shifting my bass across my back, I descended the curved slope and gripped the rubber-flanged disc with both hands. Planting my boots, I levered the mass upright until the seal seated dead center into the drain opening. A dull, airtight suction locked the rim. The chasm is secured.