Vanity Bassline

Scrambled straight up the towel rail and dropped onto the cool marble vanity! Parked right beside the chrome faucet was a hefty black pocket comb with wide, flexible teeth. Zero hesitation—I gripped the thick spine with both hands, tilted it upright against the counter lip, and brought my sneaker heel down hard on the corner tooth. Twang! The plastic snapped back with a buzzing bass pluck that echoed clean off the mirror glass. I fired off three rapid stomps down the line—boing, twang, clack! Just dropped the freshest morning rhythm track in the whole building!